Inexorable Inevitability
by Ariaeris
Summary: You came to me unwillingly, drawn by the wish that lingered in your heart. For that moment you wish to avoid, what would you surrender? What would you concede? And in the end, would it even be worth it? Let me grant your wish... xxxHoLic Rou/Harry Potter
1. Hitsuzen

_There are a great many strange things in this world…_

…_But no matter how odd…_

…_How incredible something may be…_

…_If a human does not touch it…_

…_If a human does not see it…_

…_If a human is not involved with it…_

…_It is simply something that happened._

_Simply a matter that will fade with time._

_Humans.  
Mankind.  
Homo Sapiens._

**Humans are the most profoundly mysterious living things in the world!**

* * *

_**Inexorable Inevitability**_

_Chapter 1: Hitsuzen_

_I have found power in the mysteries of thought,_

_exaltation in the changing of the Muses;_

_I have been versed in the reasonings of men;_

_but Fate is stronger than anything I have known. _

_- Euripides_

* * *

This dream was an odd one. Normally, the dreams he could not control were infected with verdant lights, blistering and cold, or high-pitched laughter ringing through empty hallways lined with doors leading nowhere. This, though...

The young man peered to the left, squinting his eyes. For some reason, his glasses had not carried over to the realm of dreams this time, but he found his eyesight unimpaired. Still, the motion was a familiar one and, though it did nothing to help pierce the darkness surrounding him, he did it anyway.

To the left, there was darkness. To the right, there was darkness. Above, below, in front, behind; he hovered in darkness so black that his pale flesh stood out in stark contrast.

The rational part of his brain told him that he should be panicking, but the notion was brushed aside. He was dreaming; nothing could hurt him here, though he was not so disbelieving of divination that he could rule out the possibility of being part of a vision. Normally though, his visions were short and to the point, if frustratingly vague; by his calculations, he had been hovering, staring blindly into the darkness for some time now.

Or perhaps it had been no time at all. He had no point of reference to compare with.

If only something would change this unaltering dream...

The asphalt was painful beneath his bare feet, but the pain was dulled by the shock of his transition. The bright light of an afternoon sun stung his unwary eyes, and he hid them behind his arm with a hiss. His thin bed shirt barely served as an adequate shield, but he made due, his eyes slowly adjusting to the new world he had been thrust into.

There was a dull roar in the background; traffic? Was he near a city then? The sound was muffled though, as if heard from a long distance, and he put it out of mind in favor of more interesting sights.

The building he stood before was certainly unique; he had never seen anything like it, though with his isolated childhood, new discoveries such as this were par for the course. He brushed back a strand of dark hair that had fallen into his eyes, examining the structure with a careful eye.

Both windows and moons were prominently displayed, the large, open windows giving the place an almost airy feel. He could almost imagine sitting by one of the windows, the sun reflecting off the skyscrapers beside the building (and that was an odd contrast, the antique-looking building cramped between the two modern-day structures). The moons themselves seemed more for decoration, but it leant the store a mystical air.

He shivered; even without the moons, the building, and the air around it, was saturated with magic. Foreign magic, Old magic, that made him wary and unwilling to enter, or even go near, it. His body jerked, as if in response to his thoughts, and he watched in mild fascination as he took a step forward not out of his own accord. Normally, he would struggle if control of his body was wrested from him, but he was dreaming; either the coming consequences would be harmless or something that needed to occur.

His musings were cut off as he stopped before the building's doors, which swept open silently. Inside stood two young girls, welcoming, and yet mischievous, smiles on their faces.

"We have a guest!~"  
"We have a guest!~"

The two girls rushed forward, grabbing his arms. His mind froze; he could feel them, his arms were jostled by their skipping. Their voices, chirping and symphonic, still rang in his ears.

This was not an ordinary dream.

"We haven't had a guest in so long!~" The girl on his right exclaimed, her long pigtails nearly trailing on the ground. She pouted cutely and he almost chuckled at her put-out expression.

"Master was getting lonely!~" The other one exclaimed, her short hair bobbing as she nodded, her serious look dissolving as they both giggled.

"Um," he said, hesitatingly, a little taken aback as they froze, turning to face him with bright smiles. "Could you please tell me where I am?"

"A store," A masculine voice rang out, echoing slightly. He jumped, not expecting an answer from someone other than the girls. The girls giggled, pulling back a portion of the wall (a screen door? Had his dream led him somewhere Asian?), revealing the speaker in all his glory.

A sable-haired man lay limply on a luxurious couch, his head resting on a mountain of pillows behind him. Smoke curled and danced around the room, the source being the butterfly-emblazoned pipe in the man's hand. Though he normally could not stand the scent of tobacco, whatever the man was smoking left a pleasant smell in the air, something relaxing and hypnotic. A dangerous scent, he thought as he shook his head.

The man looked amused now, his thin glasses flashing in the dim light. His hair (which was almost as messy as his own, a feat he had thought until now to be unrepeatable) flowed like silk as he shifted on his seat, and his different colored eyes mesmerized him for a second. One was a deep blue, an oceanic blue that he could see would be brilliant when lit with emotion, something his seemingly-bored gaze was lacking; its twin was a sharp gold, something that didn't quite fit the others face. It was too shielded, too piercing, too watchful, and it clashed with the blue eye to create a contrast that, set in the pale man's face, was quite beautiful.

His thoughts were wandering again; any motivation he might ever have felt to smoke vanished. It distracted him too much, and he needed his wits about him for this not-dream.

"If I might ask," he began politely, causing the other man's lips to quirk. "What kind of store is this?"

"This store is..." The man trailed off, drawing his leg up to clutch to his chest, his intricate robes flowing around his thin frame. "Where wishes are granted."

"Wishes are granted!~" The short-haired girl chimed.

"If it's possible for our customer...~"  
"If it's possible for our customer...~"

"We'll grant any wish!~" The long-haired girl finished. The two ran over to the man's side, their master embracing them in a loving hug. He was startled by the amount of love he saw in the man's eyes that were, just a second ago, so apathetic.

"Wishes?" He asked after a moment, hesitant to break up the familial moment.

"Yes," the mysterious man said, hefting the two girls up onto his couch. The two started playing with his hair, cooing slightly. "Just as Maru and Moro said," he finished, pointing first at the long-haired girl and then at the short-haired one.

"And you grant people's wishes?" He asked, suspicious of the man's proclamation.

"For a price, of course," the man replied, petting Maru lightly, sending the girl into a fit of giggles.

"Such as?"

"A soul," he replied casually, as if bartering with souls was an every-day occurrence.

"What!" he exclaimed, paling rapidly. To dabble in such dark magic was unthinka-

"Oh, calm down," the man said, waving a hand lackadaisically. "A 'soul' can mean many things. I don't mean that I would kill someone as a fee for their wish. Why would I want to take on the crushing weight of murder onto my soul? Nothing could ever make up for taking on such a weight."

His fist clenched, and he bit his lip instinctively. Just one more reminder of what he would become if he managed to succeed.

"Now we're getting to the root of the issue," the man said, smirking. "Tell me, what is your name?"

"...Harry Potter, why?" Harry replied, confused at the man's odd request.

The other's heterochromatic eyes glinted with some unknown emotion. "And your birthdate?"

"Why do you want to know?" Harry asked defensively.

The man fell silent, watching the smoke curl out of his pipe. Harry though the man hadn't heard him and was about to ask once more, but the supposed wish-granter suddenly spoke once more. "With the knowledge of a person's name, one can lay hold of a piece of the person's soul. With the knowledge of a birthdate, one is able to lay hold of the plot of the life path from birth to now and from now onward. So you see, giving out your name so casually like that was really foolish of you!" The man smiled, though it was distant and his eyes were clouded, as if lost in memories.

Harry's lip curled in an unpleasant sneer, though he quickly beat the uncontrollable expression down. Dammit, why did everyone he meet try to control him in some way? "If you know my name, then it is only right that you tell me yours."

"Oh?" The man asked with a raised eyebrow. Harry bristled. Sitting so lazily, pipe in one hand and his head propped in another, his smirk never leaving his face; the man looked like he was mocking him somehow. "In that case then, you can call me Ichihara Kimihiro. Or Watanuki Kimihiro - Kimihiro Watanuki for you, I suppose. It makes no difference; they're all assumed names anyway."

"Tch." Harry turned away; Ichihara was seriously pissing him off. The man was getting under his skin worse than Snape or Malfoy ever did!

"Now, you have a wish for me?" Ichihara asked, bringing his pipe to his lips. The elegantly simplistic motion was almost unnatural, as was the halo of smoke that encircled his head.

"Why do you say that?" Harry asked in irritation

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't," Ichihara replied.

"My body acted on its own accord," Harry said with a huff. "I did not want to come here."

"And yet you have, which means this meeting of ours... was hitsuzen," Ichihara said cryptically.

"Hitsuzen?" Harry asked, his curiosity perked by the odd word. After a conversation totally in English (or at least translated into English; the shop's characteristics, along with the trio's foreign sounding names, meant that he was probably in a foreign country, which meant that some form of magic was translating their conversation into something recognizable), the untranslated word was very dissonant. "What's that?"

"I could define it for you..." Ichihara said, grabbing a book from a table beside the couch and waving it in the air ('Kodansha Japanese Desk Dictionary, Second Edition' it said; he was in Japan then?). "But it would be so much more fun for you to do it yourself. Consider it homework!"

"As if I needed more work," Harry grumbled.

"Speaking of schoolwork though," Ichihara said, rising from his couch and gliding over towards Harry on bare feet, his robe/kimono/far too intricate piece of clothing trailing behind him. He leaned down slightly, whispering in Harry's ear with a wicked smirk, "Don't you need to wake up now?"

"What?" Harry asked-

-sitting up in bed, his glasses askew. Fixing his glasses, Harry glanced around wildly before settling back in his bed, groaning. What an odd dream! A cross-dressing mysterious shop-owner, two slightly-creepy little girls with a fondness for speaking as one, and a shop that granted wishes; Harry laughed at how ridiculous his dream sounded.

"Oi, Harry!" Ron shouted, wrenching back the curtains to Harry's four postured bed. "I was just going to wake you up, only to find that you've been holding out on us!"

"What?" Harry asked in confusion, glancing from Ron to his other roommates. Neville seemed embarrassed, his cheeks flushed a rosy red, while Dean and Seamus were snickering to each other, glancing at him every once in awhile.

"You should be more careful though, Harry," Ron continued, not noticing his friend's confusion. "With Hermione so stressed about OWLs this year, she'd freak if she saw you smoking of all things. I'll cover for you, but we don't want Hermione blowing her lid, right?"

"Smoking..." Harry trailed off, reaching for his wand on his bedside table, freezing at the sight of what lay beside his wand. With shaking fingers, he carefully touched the thin object, gasping as he felt its weight. It was real, he could feel it...

A butterfly-emblazoned pipe, straight from the world of dreams.

* * *

Well, here's a new project! This plunny came out of _nowhere_; I was on deviantart and, lo and behold, I found some odd picture of a Harry Potter and xxxHoLic crossover, and the plunny was born. I have no clue where this is going, but then again, doesn't that seem to be CLAMP's style, even if we all know it isn't?

Now, just some logistical things to get out of the way (for those who are confused at what the hell is going on, aka those not up to date, which means spoilers ahead):

-This story takes place ahead of where the manga is, which is when Watanuki's customer is a blind woman with a musical instrument (new story arc, yay). Therefore, this is officially in xxxHoLic Rou.

-For those who don't know, xxxHoLic Rou began in chapter 186, which started four years after xxxHoLic ended. Yep, that means there was a timeskip.

-In xxxHoLic Rou, Watanuki has been the shopkeeper for four years now. So far, Maru, Moro, Mokona, Doumeki, and Kohane have been re-introduced (with an allusion to the old fortune teller as well, by Kohane). No mentions yet of Himawari, Mugetsu, or any other spirits yet.

-As alluded to, Harry is currently in his fifth year at Hogwarts. I am well aware that the time lines don't match, but with all the screwing around the Tsubasa crew has done (here's looking at you, Syaoran, every single one of you), I refuse to accept that the time line is absolutely perfect. So therefore, it works. Somehow.

Okay, that's it for timeline stuff now; or, at least, I think that is enough for a base. Any questions will be answered to the best of my abilities and if I can answer them without spoiling anything. But go ahead and leave some questions in a review; or, you know, just leave a review in general. I'll give you xxxHoLic/Tsubasa plushies if you do.

Oh, and because I know someone is going to ask, yes there will be some romance. No, it will not be Watanuki/Harry. Yes, there will probably be Doumeki/Watanuki. If Harry does get paired with someone, then his boy/girlfriend will most likely be an... unique choice, considering my track record of pairings. Other than that, nothing is decided as of yet.

Anyway, that's all for now. I hope that this venture of mine is successful and, if not, I hope that at least one person finds some form of enjoyment from this piece.

Until next we meet,

Ariaeris~

Ps: Does anyone know how to make hearts (alt+3/keyboard) actually stay in a document on this website? Maru and Moro aren't just the same without their heart-talk, though I hope tildes are sufficient replacements for now.

**Disclaimer**: Don't own. All quoted material belongs to CLAMP. I am just borrowing, with no intended profit to be made, save for the emotional satisfaction I will receive from the well-written reviews that you all will no doubt be giving me.


	2. Inescapable

**_Inexorable Inevitability_**

_Chapter 2: Inescapable_

_Human beings have an inalienable right to invent themselves. _

_- Germaine Greer_

* * *

"He's your new customer?" A small, black figure asked, its eyes closed pensively.

"Apparently," Watanuki replied, sighing as he brushed his empty hand through his hair. He had _liked_ that pipe, though he was sure it would reach him once again, somehow. "He would not have come to the store if he did not have a wish."

"Just because he has a wish does not mean you have to grant it," the figure said.

"And yet I will anyway," Watanuki sighed, lying down on the couch. He groaned as he lay back on his mountain of cushions, their heavenly feeling taking away some of his stress. "Besides, I never refuse a customer; you know that, Mokona."

Mokona hopped up on the couch's railing, sitting by Watanuki's head. "You are still injured though."

"Even more reason to help him then," Watanuki murmured, staring blindly into the distance. "He has magic; not magic like hers, but a more casual sort of magic. Perhaps he can heal me."

"If he has magic, then how can you help him?" Mokona asked, its normally cheerful voice serious. "You have no magic of your own."

"All these questions, Mokona!" Watanuki exclaimed playfully, leaning down to look into its eyes. "Are you worried about me?" Mokona did not respond, and Watanuki sighed, exhaustion coloring his next command. "Maru, Moro, can you please go and…"

"Yes, of course! ~" The two replied, not even bothering to wait for his command. The two rushed off, giggling.

"Those two are good helpers," Mokona commented, and Watanuki grinned softly.

"And better children." Mokona nodded, and all was silent save for the faint crashing of the two retrieving the duo's drinks.

"I don't know how much I can help him," Watanuki said softly, and Mokona turned to face him. "I can not do much, and even what I can do comes at a great price. But I can do something and if he, or anyone else, requests my aid, then I shall give it. I am not useless here; there are many things in this store that are of use to me. I will be fine."

Mokona did not have the chance to reply, Maru and Moro returning then with a cheer, holding two bottles of alcohol each. That was for the best though, because it did not have any of the reassurances that Watanuki so desperately needed.

* * *

"You agree, right, Harry?" Ron asked, rubbing his tired eyes in a futile attempt to remain awake. "When will we ever need to know how to transfigure an owl into an oven?"

"Honestly, Ron, this is just one step in a very long process," Hermione said, interrupting Harry's half-hearted response. "We need to master this level in order to move on to more complex levels of transfiguration like human-animal and inanimate-animate transfiguration!"

"Still, couldn't McGonagall teach us something more useful? Something we could use every day?" Ron complained, stuffing his mouth as he spoke.

"How is learning to transfigure something into an oven useless?" Hermione asked, turning so that she was not looking directly at Ron; Harry couldn't blame her, as Ron's furious chewing was making him a bit nauseous as well. "If we were camping, then being able to create an oven would be very useful."

"If you wanted an oven, you could just conjure one," Ron said carelessly.

"And can you conjure an oven? Or anything in fact?" Hermione questioned. Ron blushed and ducked his head, muttering a negative into his steak. "That's what I thought."

Harry tuned out his friends' bickering, his thoughts turning to the pipe pressing against his thigh. Though Ron had told him to hide it, after having his dorm ransacked so many times, Harry was wary of leaving anything precious unguarded. And the pipe was very precious; somehow, the pipe had traveled with him from his dream, becoming corporeal. It was unlikely that he conjured it, having no experience in conjuring anything but water and simple objects (something the ornately embellished pipe was certainly not) , and it was equally as unlikely that his magic could have acted on its own accord and conjured something he had seen in a dream.

Had that man – Ichihara – given it to him? Why would he do something like that? And if he did, when did he do so? He had been smoking it almost the entire time and Harry couldn't see him parting with it so easily. It wasn't impossible that Ichihara had slipped it to him when he wasn't looking, and he did have experience with magic working in odd ways to give him things (the memory of the Mirror of Erised and the Philosopher's Stone leapt to mind), but…

"Harry? Harry!" Harry's musings were abruptly ended, Hermione's concerned look shaking him out of his thoughts. "I've been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes; are you not feeling well?"

"Sorry, Hermione." Harry smiled slightly, trying to soothe her worries. "I'm a little tired; I'm not used to being back on a school schedule."

"Be sure to get some rest, Harry!" Hermione ordered, and Ron rolled his eyes at the girl's bossy tone. "This year is extremely important; how many times do I have to stress that before it sinks in! We have our OWLs this year, and we also have to begin planning our futures. We will be meeting with our teachers later in the year for counseling on what professions we might want to go into. This year could literally decide the rest of our lives, and I don't want you to fall behind because you're not feeling well!"

"I'll be fine," Harry assured, brushing aside her worries. He looked away, trying to ignore her slightly hurt look. He knew that everything she said was of legitimate concern and he was touched by the concern she had in him. He had more important things to focus on right now though and, if he displayed any abnormal interest in his studies, then Hermione would pounce on him, as was her nature. If he studied less, she would chide him until his work improved; if he studied more, she would clutch onto him in praise and drag him into even more studying. Better to just ignore her suggestions for the moment so that he would have time to spend on his own investigation, no matter how much it hurt him to hurt her.

Harry perked up; hadn't Ichihara given him an assignment? If anyone would know what that odd word meant, it would be Hermione. Harry sighed in irritation; looks like he would have to give up some of his free time in order to find some answers.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry said apologetically, and she turned to him with a curious look. "I'm really distracted today; I saw something in a book that intrigued me and it's been taking up all my thoughts."

"It's okay, Harry," Hermione said with a glint in her eye. "What were you studying though?"

"Here's she goes again…" Ron groaned, and Hermione shot him a filthy look.

"It's just a term that popped out of the page at me, and I was wondering if you had heard of it," Harry replied, plastering a pleading look on his face.

Hermione looked pensive, biting her lip. "If I can help I will, but no guarantees."

"I understand," Harry nodded. "Have you ever heard of _hitsuzen_?"

A glass shattered, throwing the hall into silence. As one, the students turned to look at the Head Table, where Dumbledore sat, his hand dripping with his spilt drink. Hs blue eyes, blazing oddly, were locked on Harry, and the boy shivered at the Headmaster's gaze.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked in a hushed whisper, but Ron shrugged, as confused as everyone else. Conversations slowly started up again, but the Headmaster's eyes never left Harry, piercing him as if looking into his very soul.

The chill that shot down his spine was met with the stinging heat of the pipe resting against his thigh.

"Come on," Hermione said softly, tugging on Harry's arm. "We should get to class."

"What!?" Ron yelped. "Lunch doesn't end for another fifteen minutes and we have _History of Magic_ next. Why would you want to go to naptime over eating?"

"Ron," Hermione hissed, moving to stand in front of Harry, glancing at the Headmaster nervously. "It's time to go."

Ron looked behind her, seeing how pale Harry was for the first time. The redhead's eyes hardened as he nodded once. "Okay. Let's go."

Shielded by his two friends, Harry quickly fled from the hall, Dumbledore's burning eyes never leaving his form.

* * *

"Oh dear. It seems like you got yourself into a bit of trouble."

Harry gasped lightly, startled by the sudden voice. Binns' droning lecture had been causing him to nod off, but he was sure it hadn't been so bad that it had put him to sleep...

"Welcome back," Ichihara said, smiling widely at Harry's shocked stare. "That didn't take long, hmm?" Ichihara smirked, and Harry twitched in aggravation. "Did you miss me that much? It hasn't even been a day since we last met."

"Shut up!" Harry exclaimed. Why did Ichihara get under his skin so badly?

Ichihara continued on, ignoring the steadily fuming Harry. "I bet you haven't even found out what hitsuzen is yet."

"So what if I haven't?" Harry challenged. "Like you said, it hasn't been that long."

"Maybe I should just tell you…" Ichihara trailed off, looking at a tree littered with beautiful flowers. As the mysterious shopkeeper was lost in thought, Harry took a look around him, seeing the shop in a new light.

They were on a low porch that he had not noticed when he entered the shop for the first time, a beautiful garden stretching across the lawn. A few trees blooming with flowers were strewn about, shining in the afternoon sun. The smoke from Ichihara's pipe curled in the air, and Harry watched it dissolve as he waited, idly wondering when the shopkeeper had retrieved his pipe.

"Smoking so much will kill you, you know," Harry said, waving the smoke away from him. Ichihara chuckled, and Harry turned to face him. He was wearing yet another ornate outfit, his dark green shirt and pants covered in tassels and butterfly prints. Harry was beginning to think the guy had a butterfly fetish or something.

"I think I'll be okay," Ichihara said lightly, his mismatched eyes gleaming with hidden knowledge. Damn, even his eyes were annoying. "And I think I _will _tell you what hitsuzen is… according to this!" Ichihara exclaimed cheerily, waving the dictionary he had had before in the air.

"Okay?" Harry replied, confused at the shopkeeper's rapid mood swing. Maybe he was bipolar?

"According to the Kodansha Japanese Desk Dictionary, Second Edition (of course, the first is so unreliable, don't you think?), "Hitsuzen" is a naturally foreordained event, a state in which other outcomes are impossible, a result which can only be obtained by a single causality, and other causalities would necessarily create different results, et cetera, et cetera."

"…Are you serious?" Harry asked, not amused with the shopkeeper's round about definition of fate.

"But of course!" Ichihara scoffed, looking for all the world as if Harry had insulted him. "Would I have told you otherwise?"

"Probably," Harry muttered.

"You have such a low opinion of me…" Ichihara pouted, blowing a puff of smoke in Harry's face. "What have I ever done to deserve that?"

"That just now!" Harry coughed, beating his chest lightly.

"I'd prove that I'm genuine if I could, but…" Ichihara trailed off, rapping himself on the head. "We don't have a basin of water! Nor a pocket watch!"

"Why would we…" Harry shook his head, trying to dispel the stupidity he could feel infecting him. "Never mind. Whatever. So you're saying it was my destiny to be here?"

"If that's what you believe," Ichihara said lightly, tilting his head as if he heard something.

"That was a yes or no question," Harry growled. "Why do you feel the need to answer everything so complexly?"

"Complexly?" Ichihara mocked, leaning forward to hit Harry on the forehead with his pipe. Harry jumped back, rubbing his stinging head. "That was about as simple a definition as there could be!"

"Simple!" Harry shrieked, eyes blazing. "Maybe you should consult you're dictionary again, because that was anything but simple!"

"Impudent whelp!" Ichihara scowled, rising. Harry noticed absentmindedly that even his shoes had tassels on them.

"Arrogant, blowhard smoker!" Harry shot back, stomping into Ichihara's personal space.

"Take that back! I am _not _a blowhard smoker!" Ichihara shouted, head butting Harry. Their foreheads pressed together as they growled at each other.

"Well, this is a surprise," a monotonous voice said, breaking through their scuffle. The two blinked, turning to stare at their intruder.

'A surprise? From this guy?' Harry thought incredulously, peering at the stoic stranger. His gold eyes did not betray even a single emotion. 'I'd be surprised if this creep could even feel!'

"What is a surprise?" Ichihara asked, his hands pressed to his hips. Apparently even the irritating shopkeeper found the older man annoying.

"You acting like your normal idiot self," the stranger said bluntly, and Harry stifled a laugh, his opinion of the man doing a turnaround. This guy was the exact opposite of a creep!

Ichihara's cheeks colored, his eyes glaring furiously. "I'm an idiot!? Only a giant pile of idiocy like you could say something like that!" The shopkeepers rant continued on for quite awhile, but the two tuned him out in favor of introducing themselves.

"Doumeki Shizuka," The stranger said, bowing slightly.

"Ah!" Harry gasped, unused to being bowed to. Was this how people in Japan introduced themselves? "Um, Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you." He gave a jerky bow, blushing at how awkward the motion was.

"Customer?" Doumeki asked, and Harry was startled to hear that the older man's voice wasn't as emotionless as he thought. It was barely there, but he could make out the curious tone of his voice.

"Apparently so," Harry replied, sighing at Doumeki's raised eyebrow. "I'm only a customer because hitsuzen says so."

"Ah," Doumeki said shortly. "Oi," he called, halting Ichihara's annoyed ranting. "Sake."

"Who do you think you are to order me around!?" Ichihara bellowed, pointing at the silent figure. "You know where the sake is; get it yourself!"

"Will you please get us some sake?" Doumeki asked Maru and Moro who had popped out onto the porch with Doumeki.

"Of course! ~"  
"Of course! ~"

The two scampered off, and Ichihara was silent until they were out of hearing range. Or, at least, until they were out of sight, because Harry was fairly sure he could have heard the shopkeeper's ranting back in Britain. "Why are you polite to them but not me?"

"Jealous?" Doumeki asked, and Harry blinked at the amusement coloring the apparently not-so-stoic man's voice.

"Incredibly," Ichihara said sarcastically, sinking back into his chair.

Harry was so lost; were the two friends or not? One second he could swear that they were inseparable and yet the next they were almost at each other's throats. Well, at least Ichihara was almost at Doumeki's throat.

"Um, Ichihara?" Harry said, breaking into the two's conversation, missing Doumeki's odd glance at the shopkeeper. "You said it was my destiny to come here, right?"

"Only if you think it is," Ichihara replied. "It may or may not have been your destiny to be here, but it is most certainly hitsuzen that you are."

"My head," Harry said softly, rubbing his temples. "If it's not destiny, but 'hitsuzen' that I'm here, than what's the difference?"

"I'll save the technicalities for another time; we wouldn't want to hurt you brain even more after all," Ichihara teased, and Harry shot him a venomous glare. "For now, just know that because you had a wish, it became necessary that you arrived at my shop."

"I have no wish that I want granted though," Harry grumbled in confusion.

"You do," Ichihara disagreed. "Or else you would not be here."

"But-"

_Harry!_

"- if I don't know what I supposedly want, then how can you grant it?" Harry asked.

"You might not know your wish, but _I _do," Ichihara replied simply, offering his pipe to Doumeki. The man shook his head slightly, and the shopkeeper took a drag. "It would be bad business to grant it without you knowing what sort of contract you are entering into though."

"Why?" Harry asked.

_Harry!_

"Well, for one thing, if you don't know what your wish is, then you won't understand (to a degree. You might not even understand it even if you do know your wish!) what the price is. Not to mention that no contract should be entered into blindly."

"Pri-"

_HARRY!_

"-ce? What price?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"I did say this was a wish store, didn't I?" Ichihara asked rhetorically. "At a store, you do pay for things, no? The same rule applies here; this isn't a charity after all. If you want a wish granted, then you need to pay the price for it."

"But I don't want my wish, whatever it is, to be granted by you!" Harry exclaimed, ready to tear his hair out in frustration.

"How can you say that if you don't even know what your wish is?" Ichihara countered.

Harry covered his face with his palm, ready to scream. This guy was so…

"I would suggest that you sleep on it, but it seems like I'm taking up all your dream time," Ichihara chuckled. "So why don't you meditate to find out what exactly it is that you wish for. And when you find out what that is, come to me, and I'll give your wish a price. You can decide then if you want me to grant your wish or not."

"You're being oddly giving," Harry said warily.

"You're an interesting person, Harry Potter." Ichihara grinned deviously. "The last thing I want to do is scare off a potential customer."

"As if I'd be in your debt willingly," Harry scoffed.

"Hmm, we'll see. Now, say bye bye, Doumeki!" Ichihara exclaimed playfully, waving childishly at Harry. Doumeki nodded once, and Harry returned it, slightly confused. "We'll see you soon!"

"Wha-"

_"HARRY!"_

"-t?" Harry grunted, shoving off Hermione, who had been jostling him roughly. "What's up, Hermione?" He glanced around, noticing a few students looking at him in concern.

"You weren't waking up," Hermione said softly, her voice quaking fearfully. "No matter how hard we shook you or how loud we called for you."

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked, noticing his friend's disappearance.

"He went off with Neville to get Professor McGonagall," Hermione answered, clutching his arm tightly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Hermione," Harry reassured.

"You said the same thing at lunch." Hermione's voice shook as she spoke, and Harry watched her in concern. "I knew I should have made you lie down; I knew you weren't feeling well!"

"Hermione…" Harry trailed off, realizing how worried he had made his friend. A lump of guilt settled in his throat. "I'm okay, I promise."

"Okay you may be, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said from the classroom's entrance, her face creased in slight worry. "But a night in the Hospital Wing will be sure to put you in tip-top shape."

"Professor, I'm fi-" Harry began, only to be cut off my McGonagall's response.

"No arguments, Mr. Potter. Ms. Granger, if you would please escort Mr. Potter to the Hospital Wing; dinner will be delivered to you Mr. Potter, so I expect that you will not have to leave until tomorrow."

"Of course, Professor," Harry said politely, gritting his teeth.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione whispered, drawing him to the door. McGonagall stepped aside as the passed her, and Harry was surprised to see the slight worry in her eyes as well.

Harry's mind was numb as he was lead to the Hospital Wing, the lump of guilt refusing to disappear. It seemed like more people cared about him then he thought.

* * *

First of all, thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, added me to their favorites and/or story alert list, or added me to a C2. You all are the best! If I could put a heart here (and thank you to everyone who responded to my question, even if you didn't know the answer), I would.

Anyway, I use the Del Ray translation of xxxHoLic whenever possible, relying only on Onemanga and other sites for more recent spoilers. As such, I have grown very fond of Del Ray's little translational and cultural notes they stick at the end of their volumes. As such, I thought I'd replicate it with my own little ending notes; some of them might seem a little redundant to avid xxxHoLic readers, but I think they're fun little additions that spice up the story, and even draw your attention to small little details you might have passed over without noticing them.

In (hopefully) chronological order, here are some of the notes for this chapter of Inexorable Inevitability!

**- Mokona. **A cute little bunny-shaped thing, Mokona is one of the main characters of xxxHoLic, and has appeared in some form or another in multiple CLAMP mangas. "Officially" described as looking like the bean-jam rice cakes that snow-sightseers eat (no, I don't know what that means either), I much prefer calling them bunny-thing or stealing Kurogane's not-so-affectionate pork bun nickname. This Mokona (Larg, as opposed to its twin, Soel) serves as a liaison with the Tsubasa RESERVoir CHRoNiCLE quartet and as Yuuko's helper and drinking buddy.

**- You have no magic of your own. **Now, here's where I get a little less canon-compliant (unless my theories prove true, that is). Already, Watanuki has been called and called himself useless when it comes to using magic, leading to the theory that, unlike Yuuko, Watanuki can't do anything magical (besides his dreamseer abilities, which will be mentioned later). That doesn't mean he's useless though; Watanuki has granted wishes before without using magic and I've given him the ability to use any item held within the store. Also, I figure that Watanuki can do many of the things he has seen Yuuko do, so it's not like he's completely powerless; he just can't do things on a level like Yuuko could (like, say, create a God).

**- Conjuring ovens while camping. **Allusions to future!canon are fun! It would have been very handy if the Trio could have conjured an oven in HP7, no? Oh, and by oven, I don't mean an electrical one or anything like that; Wizarding magic doesn't mix with electronics, remember?

**- Flowers, flowers, everywhere. **Watanuki took up some gardening during the time skip. After all, even with Doumeki as his source of food, it would be prudent of him to grow something he could have on hand.

**- "Smoking... will kill you." "I think I'll be okay." **Ownership of the shop has given Watanuki a unique form of immortality; he's not immortal as he will die eventually, but he won't die for a _very _long time. He can still be injured (as Mokona mentioned) by outside forces, but as he can't just die, smoking in and of itself won't kill him. It might give him some pretty messed up lungs though, but I'm sure there's something in the shop for that; at least one world out there in the multiverse had to have found a cure for lung cancer after all.

**- Kodansha Japanese Desk Dictionary, Second Edition. **This dictionary may or may not exist, though a quick Google search tells me that it probably does. Anyway, this is just Watanuki imitating Yuuko a bit; he does that, if you haven't noticed.

**- "We don't have a basin of water! Nor a pocket watch!" **A little allusion to volume 1 of the manga. During their first meeting, Yuuko used a basin of water and a pocket watch belonging to Watanuki to read his past. Here, Watanuki was going to prove how genuine a shopkeeper he truly was by showing Harry the events which lead him to the shop… but that would have been no fun at all, and so, Watanuki preformed no showy magic for Harry.

**- Doumeki Shizuka. **Another main character in xxxHoLic, Doumeki is Watanuki's constant shadow, as his 'pure spirit' repels the spirits that plagued Watanuki for most of the manga. His pureness has been recognized by much of the cast, including Yuuko and the Ame-Warashi. At the moment, he is attending college and serves as Watanuki's caretaker and one of his sole links to the world outside his shop. Let's say that his relationship with Watanuki is... tenuous at best, but deep down on the inside, they seem like they might actually care for each other. There will be more notes on him later.

**- The curious tone of [Doumeki's] voice. **Aside from Watanuki and himself, there have been only three (four if we're counting clones as separate people) other male customers to the store. Harry's arrival is a markedly different occasion as the shop's sixth/seventh known male customer.

**- Doumeki's odd glance. **This one should be obvious; Doumeki's wondering why the hell Watanuki is being called by Yuuko's surname. I bet he would prefer Watanuki calling himself a Doumeki. Also, poor Harry still hasn't realized that he's missing honorifics _and _mistaking surnames for someone's actual name, though at least he's being partially polite by addressing Watanuki by his assumed surname.

**- "You might not know your wish, but _I _do." **Harry gave Watanuki his real name which, according to Watanuki, gives one the ability to lay hold of a piece of a person's soul. This is an actual form of fortune-telling called _seimeihandan_, which means divination. This form of fortune-telling is the practice of using a person's name to determine his or her future. The technicalities of _seimeihandan_ don't matter; just know that knowing a person's true name gives you a great advantage over them and is a major theme in numerous CLAMP mangas.

Whew, that took up quite a bit of space! Now, let's see who actually read all of that: did any of you find these notes interesting or useful? Would you rather me scrap this practice, or do you want notes after every chapter? How many xxxHoLic readers are looking at me oddly, wondering if anyone _didn't_ know this stuff already?

Anyway, thank you all for reading and reviewing, and I hope the success of this story continues on far into the future!

Until next time,

Ariaeris~


	3. Lucidity

**_Inexorable Inevitability_**

_Chapter 3: Lucidity_

_To be stupid, selfish, and have good health are three requirements for happiness, though if stupidity is lacking, all is lost. _

_- Gustave Flaubert_

* * *

"Now, _that _was interesting," Watanuki said as soon as Harry had disappeared. Doumeki glanced at him, an unspoken question in his eyes. "I didn't know you were a dreamseer, Doumeki."

"I'm not," Doumeki mumbled, turning as the pattering of feet announced Maru and Moro's return.

"We have liquor! ~"  
"We have liquor! ~"

The two danced about, carelessly tossing around cups and jugs for the alcohol, Watanuki chuckling at their little dance.

"I hope you have some for Mokona!" Mokona announced, popping out of Doumeki's tote bag and dancing on the table. The girls nodded, carefully pouring the pork bun a cup.

"I was wondering where you were," Watanuki mused. "Why didn't you show yourself while Harry was here?"

"Mokona wasn't shy!" Mokona announced, ignoring its inadvertent admission. Watanuki idly watched its dancing as Doumeki thanked the girls for pouring him a cup.

"Something interesting happened while you were hiding though." Watanuki grinned as Mokona's ears perked up. "Doumeki here saw his first dream."

Mokona gazed at Doumeki silently, the stoic man not hesitating in the slightest under the pork bun's gaze. "That man was not a dream."

"Not in the traditional manner, I suppose," Watanuki agreed, taking a sip of his own drink. "But he was brought here by dreams."

"He was corporeal," Mokona reminded him. "He could feel, see, taste, touch, sense… people who dream, even dreamseers, cannot do that."

"You're right…" Watanuki trailed off. "Maybe this anomaly has something to do with his unique form of magic?"

"Unique?" Doumeki asked quietly, munching on some of the snacks Watanuki made earlier.

Watanuki hummed in agreement, twirling his pipe slowly. "His magic is not like my own; in fact, it resembles Fai's more than mine or Yuuko's. Using a wand as a conduit, Harry channels the magic that resides within him to do his bidding. He actually goes to school to learn how to use his magic! Mixing his magic with his dreams might be why he can appear in this store corporally."

"Does that mean he is a dreamseer?" Doumeki asked.

"Perhaps, though I wouldn't be surprised if he had at least some natural skill in divination," Watanuki replied, watching in horrified fascination as Doumeki shoveled more and more food into his mouth. "If you are going to eat so much, I hope you plan on repaying me."

"I get the groceries in your kitchen," Doumeki answered, briefly looking at Watanuki before returning to his meal.

"I guess you are useful for something," Watanuki teased, brushing the other man's crumbs off their table. "Now tell me, how have your classes been going?"

* * *

Harry lay on his usual bed in the Hospital Wing, mindlessly counting the cracks in the stone ceiling. He had so many thoughts swirling around in his head that they were smashing into each other, giving him a massive headache and a complete inability to focus on anything; he could swear he had counted that crack three times already.

Ichihara's words had been so confusing. In fact, everything about the irritating shopkeeper was confusing; one second he would be dancing around, teasing and mocking him, and the next he would be solemn and stern. Maybe he really was bipolar? Harry could think of no other reasons for Ichihara's rapid mood swings.

The whole concept of hitsuzen was making his mind go numb as well. Ichihara had said that it was different than fate or destiny, but he didn't _say _how. Then again, Ichihara did say that all of hitsuzen's technicalities were even more confusing (something Harry found difficult to both believe and imagine), so maybe his ignorance was a blessing in disguise.

And what was with the whole wish/price thing anyway!? Apparently, because Watanuki knew his name, he knew his future or his hitsuzen or something. Harry snorted, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. What rubbish; even Trelawney hadn't spouted such nonsense.

Still, Ichihara had said that he wouldn't have come to him if he didn't have a wish, and it was unlikely that he would just dream himself to some random guy's house for no reason. Had his magic sent him to Ichihara's shop? Or was there some outside force interfering with his life? Harry couldn't see Voldemort doing something like this; was Dumbledore connected to this somehow? Harry hadn't forgotten the headmaster's odd reaction after Harry had uttered hitsuzen during lunch.

Harry rolled over, covering his head with a pillow and groaning into the bed beneath him. Why was everything so complicated in his life? He had thought being tried for a criminal offense would be the highlight of this year, but it seems like he had been mistaken.

Maybe he should try to get some rest? He had been thinking for the past few hours, all alone in the Hospital Wing as he waited for Ron and Hermione's classes to end, and his head was throbbing. Would Madam Pomfrey give him a potion for his headache if he asked her? It couldn't hurt to ask...

Harry could barely manage the strength to lift his arm limply before letting it fall, sinking into the world of dreams without a sound.

------

_The wires around his wrists, his legs, his neck stung, tightly gripping at his body. A thin white cloth that was draped across his body was the only thing that protected his modesty, but it had stained red long ago, blood pouring from his scar, which burned and ached more than it ever had before._

_In agony, his thoughts were muddled. Had he returned to dreams? The never-ending black void that stretched around him suggested so, but this pain was something he had never felt before while dreaming._

_A rivulet of blood trickled down his face, retracing paths long since set. He would cry if he could, but he had spent all his tears long ago._

_Why wasn't the shopkeeper helping him? There was no doubt in his mind that the other man could enter dreams, but he could not sense his presence at all. Had the other man abandoned him? The thought was childish, but it still sent a thrum of betrayal through him._

_"Don't be so hasty with your judgments," a feminine voice commanded, breaking through the silence and his thoughts. "Watanuki can not attend to you because I have forbidden him to come here, as was necessary to protect both him and your mind." The voice paused before continuing sadly. "He would not be able to survive in a place such as this. Not yet."_

_Harry tried to look at the woman who had spoken, but his eyes were too blood-stained. The soft rustling of silk soothed him though; this woman had brought sound back into his unhearing world, and that was enough for him to trust her._

_"You have suffered for many years," the woman observed as she stopped before him, and Harry wished that he could see her. "Do not bother yourself with thoughts such as those," she said, as if she had read his thoughts. "It would not do one such as you any good to look at one such as me."_

_"Who are you?" He asked, surprised to hear that his voice was clear and strong, none of the pain racking his body reflected in it._

_"I am many things," the stranger answered without pause. "My name would do you no good either, for even if you knew it, you would have no power over me."_

_"Why are you here?" He asked next, more to here her voice than anything else. For some reason, it felt like he had never heard a single voice before._

_"You needed me," she replied, and her smile was in her voice and it lit something warm in his heart. This stranger had some to assist **him**?_

_"Thank you." Harry tried to express everything he felt but couldn't say in those two words, and he sense that she knew what he truly meant._

_"You are very welcome, Harry Potter." A warm hand landed on his head, caressing it gently, motherly almost. His hair was smoothed back, revealing his bleeding scar. "At this time, I can do so little. You will need to rely on Watanuki from now on. This should be enough for the moment though." A spark leapt unseen from her finger onto his scar, and he gasped as the pain left him as if it had been swept away. The next second, he felt a chunk of hair be cut off, and the woman chuckled as the wires around his disappeared and he barely managed to land on his feet._

_"My, my, don't you look handsome without your hair covering that face of yours!" She exclaimed, and Harry blinked, his vision suddenly coming back into focus, the blood cleaned from his eyes. Had she done that as well? The thought left him as he stared at himself in the hand-mirror she held (where had she gotten a mirror anyway?), surprised at the change he saw. His face, which had grown unhealthily pale over the past few years, now looked alabaster-smooth. His green eyes gleamed brightly in a way they never had, guarded by his bulky glasses as they were. The most startling change though was that his forehead was now unscarred, the lightning bolt mark that had defined him to the Wizarding world gone without a trace._

_"How?" Harry asked stunned. He glanced at her, only to find that she had moved behind him, out of sight. "This isn't me."_

_"Not now," she agreed solemnly. "Not with everything that is working against you. But it could be."_

_"Working against me?" Harry asked, wincing as a ringing sound not unlike a bell being struck shattered the calm atmosphere of their conversation._

_"It seems like we don't have any more time," the woman sighed. "I suppose this is only hitsuzen; I've interfered enough anyway. I can't make this too easy on him after all." The hand-mirror disappeared, only to be placed in his hands. "Take this and this as well." A scroll joined the mirror in his grasp. "Let none see these things, especially that man. You will need them in the near future, and he will not allow you to do what needs to be done."_

_"Who will?" Harry asked, watching in fascination as the darkness surrounding them splintered, light shining through the thin cracks._

_"I think you know," the woman chuckled. "Or you soon will. Either, or."_

_Harry sighed in irritation, shaking his head. "You and that annoying shopkeeper; you both are exactly the same."_

_Silence, and then the woman embraced him tightly, resting her cheek on the top of his head. Long, black hair tumbled over his shoulders, and he was surprised as her voice trembled with an undercurrent of emotion. "Truly, emotions are the only things that can be given without a price. Thank you; you do not know how happy you have made me."_

_"What?" Harry asked, the question repeated as the dark world around them finally shattered. Ichihara stood in the remnants of the darkness, eyes wide with shock and the beginning of pain._

_"It's time for this dream to end," the woman whispered, not looking at Ichihara, who had started to run towards them, shouting a name that Harry could not here. "Wake up, Harry. Now."_

------

Harry woke with a start, gasping as he shot up from his bed. Who had that woman been? What had she done to him? Why had Ichihara been so surprised to see her? And who was this Watanuki she told him to rely on? The name sounded familiar for some reason, but he couldn't figure out why...

He fell back on the bed with a huff, wincing at the uncomfortable feel of the Hospital Wing's cot. He probably wouldn't get any answers any time soon. Everything connected to that damn shopkeeper was too complicated for him to understand.

Harry rolled over, a plate of delicious looking food catching his eye. He smiled, canceling the stasis charm keeping the food warm; seems like Hermione and Ron had been able to visit after all.

As he moved, something slipped off his lap, and he was barely able to catch it before it landed on the ground. A quick glance concluded that he had been very lucky that his seeker reflexes were so honed; the mirror the woman had given him would have shattered if it had dropped.

Harry held the hand-mirror before him, looking at it carefully. It didn't seem any different than an ordinary mirror, save for the butterfly markings on its edges. He sighed, repressing the urge to throw the mirror at a wall; why was everything in his life revolving around butterflies these days? First the shopkeeper, now her, both giving him such odd things...

Harry pushed the thought away, picking up the scroll next. He unrolled it, groaning in exasperation. Japanese - it was written in Japanese. Or course, he could never be given a mysterious tome in English, that would be far too convenient! A word did catch his eye though, and it sent his heart racing.

夢見

_Yumemi._

Harry clutched the scroll tightly, looking around the Hospital Wing in panic. Had anyone seen this? Dammit, he had guarded his secret fearfully, researching his ability as discreetly as possible. If anyone found out that he was someone who had true dreams, who knows what the consequences could be. He doubted that there would be no one who would not want to take advantage of his ability, especially considering how rare it was in the Wizarding world.

Where could he hide them? The woman had told him not to let _him_ see them, but who was this mysterious man who would work against him? Whoever it was, Harry knew that he needed to find a hiding place for the two objects he had been given, and he needed to do it now.

Forcing himself off his cot, Harry left the Hospital Wing as silently as possible. He knew exactly where to hide things that were not meant to be seen.

* * *

Watanuki panted heavily, kneeling on the ground with a hand covering his mouth. Had he really just seen her?

He remembered the thrill of panic that he had felt when Kohane had rushed into the store, disheveled and gasping out a message warning him of Harry being in danger. He had quickly forced himself asleep, but he had been blocked from Harry's mind by a power far greater than his own. By the time he had been able to overcome such a great power, he had been confronted with that scene...

Watanuki took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Why would Yuuko meet Harry in dreams? Why would Yuuko even be in dreams in the first place? Sure, Haruka popped in every once in awhile to relate some antediluvian tale meant to teach him something, but Yuuko had never visited him while he was dreaming.

Watanuki scolded himself with a rueful smile. Who was he to feel this pain? Knowing Yuuko, she was probably planning some horribly complex plan that would no doubt make his head explode if he actually managed to understand it.

Standing up abruptly, Watanuki went off to find Maru and Moro. Even Mokona would be a good distraction. Hell, he'd even deal with Doumeki's silence at the moment. Anything to make the aching in his heart that refused to disappear go away.

* * *

I'm woobifying Watanuki. It's an incredibly fun process, if only for the fact that I can make it all better for him later. I think that's why everyone writes at least one thing that is tragic; we like to experience catharsis, and then once we are cleansed, we can focus on making things better once again. No worries though, this is not an angst story! I'm trying to remain faithful to the xxxHoLiC feel, so nothing will be overtly depressing or anything like that. Just a little pervading sadness is all.

In any case, I'm getting off topic. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, add this story to their favorites and/or story alert list, or made _Inexorable Inevitability_ part of their C2. You guys are the best and, since I got such great feedback on the ending notes, I will make them part of the end of each chapter.

Notes! Forward charge (though beware of spoilers)!

**-** **"Doumeki here saw his first dream." **Doumeki is not a dreamseer, so the fact that he could see a dream is significant. Both Watanuki and Mokona make note on how odd this is, but Mokona seems to be more of the mind that Harry is not just an ordinary dream, which Watanuki seems to support...

**- Fai. **Or Fay. Or Fye. Or any other weird translation I suppose. This confusingly-named character is one of Tsubasa RESERVoir CHRoNiCLE's main characters and is an extremely skilled mage. I'm actually going out on a limb here comparing Harry's magic to Fai's magic, because I have not read TRC completely like I have xxxHoLic (though I'm working on it). What I meant to say when I contrast their magic to Yuuko and Watanuki's magic is that Harry and Fai do not have to pay an overt price when casting spells while the shopkeepers' magic seems to mainly focus on wish-granting (though there are a few times when Yuuko uses her magic freely).

**-** **"...being tried for a criminal offense would be the highlight of this year..." **Before his fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry defended himself and his cousin from Dementors (soul-sucking beasts) by using a Patronus charm. As using magic before the age of seventeen is illegal, especially so in the presence of a Muggle (non-magical human beings), Harry was expelled from Hogwarts. Through a long and complicated process, Harry was reinstated at Hogwarts and cleared of all crimes, but not before being brought to court as if he committed a criminal offense.

**-** **Wires and blood. **Metaphors. Harry wasn't actually stung up with wires and bleeding all over the place. What those metaphors mean though is a secret for another time...

**- "It would not do one such as you any good to look at one such as me." **Stolen from Aeris/Aerith in Advent Children. Yuuko (a few notes down) is dead, and according to Aeris/th, the living cannot look at the dead. This same theme is addressed in other forms, such as the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, where when leading his dead wife out of the underworld in order to revive her, Orpheus looked at her before they were completely out, and she was sent back into death. For anyone who is worried, no, this story will not crossover with either Advent Children or Greek mythology (though there might be further allusions!).

**- "This isn't me." **No, Harry, it isn't. Yuuko, trying to convince Harry to trust Watanuki, is showing Harry what he would look like if not for the war and other influences around him. Basically, imagine how Harry would have looked like if nothing bad had ever happened to him and what he could look like once he finally is at peace. Also, the contrast between Harry-now and Harry-could-be will be significant shortly.

**- "Truly, emotions are the only things that can be given without a price." **A theme introduced in volume ten of xxxHoLic. Following Watanuki's birthday party, in which Yuuko's gift is to simply tell Watanuki to "have a birthday party," Haruka notes that Yuuko knows full well that "the only things that can be given without a price to be paid... are one's own feelings."

**- Stasis charms. **These charms don't actually exist (or are never featured in the books - feel free to correct me on this one if I'm mistaken), but are an integral part of fandom. The general consensus is that stasis charms keep objects in the state they were in when the charm was cast. Usually featured in the context of time-sensitive potions, I figured Hermione would be clever enough to use them to keep some food for Harry warm.

**- ****夢見 Yumemi**. The Japanese term for dreamseers, according to X (X/1999 for English fans). When Watanuki, Doumeki, and Mokona are talking about dreamseers in the first part this chapter, they are using this term (as they are speaking in Japanese, of course). The only reason I left this term in Japanese is because Harry, who does not know Japanese, saw this term on the scroll he was given by Yuuko. Also, I got the Japanese from the Great Wiki in the Sky, so feel free to correct me, and the X/1999 I got it from, if it is wrong.

**- Kohane (Tsuyuri Kohane). **A young girl with powers similar to Watanuki in her first appearance, Kohane reappears in xxxHoLic Rou as a young woman enrolled at Tsuji Academy. Her powers were influenced somewhat by one of Princess Tsubasa's feathers, but on its removal, Kohane retains the ability to see spirits but not exorcise them. She lives with an old fortuneteller, who seems to assist Watanuki and informs him of his future customers through Kohane, which is why Kohane was able to tell Watanuki that Harry was in trouble.

**- Yuuko (Ichihara Yuuko).** Finally, the note you've all been waiting for. The Witch of Dimensions, Yuuko was the previous owner of the shop, and Watanuki's de facto mentor (read: slave mistress). Thanks to Watanuki wishing that he did not have the ability to see spirits, Yuuko demanded that he serve as her part-time worker until he had worked enough to pay for the price of his wish. Though she does not perform much magic, she is incredibly powerful, going so far as to be able to create "gods." A raging alcoholic, flirt, and trickster, Yuuko's light personality conceals a serious attitude and a sometimes jaded attitude towards human beings as a whole.

In actuality, Yuuko has been dead long before xxxHoLic even began; as she lay dying, Clow Reed accidentally wished that she would continue living. Her time frozen, making her effectively immortal, Yuuko existed to grant wishes and prepare for her final moments. Due to events in TRC, Yuuko's time finally began to move forward once again, effectively allowing her to die, though she managed to contact Watanuki in order to finally tell him what her sole wish was: for him to continue existing.

Shaken, Watanuki states that he will wait for Yuuko forever, becoming the shopkeeper of Yuuko's store in a wish inverse to Sayoran/Tsubasa's in TRC (to forever wander from place to place). Taking on Yuuko's job and separation from time/space in order to keep the multiverse in balance (as his was an existence that was never supposed to be), Watanuki's new existence is that of a wish-granter as he waits for Yuuko to return to him.

**- Haruka (Doumeki Haruka). **Haruka is Doumeki's deceased grandfather who somehow contacts Watanuki while he is dreaming. Haruka manages to use his knowledge of numerous ancient stories to help Watanuki, a hobby Doumeki took up as well. When not aiding Watanuki, he spends his time smoking, helping Watanuki understand his complex grandson, and caressing Watanuki's cheek. The reason why Watanuki was so saddened by Yuuko appearing to Harry is that she never appeared to him like Haruka does, though why she hasn't will come up later...

Okay, I think that's enough for now. If anyone has any questions, concerns, or corrections, feel free to contact me! Or just leave a review; that's great as well!

'Til next time,

Ariaeris~


	4. Inductility

**_Inexorable Inevitability_**

_Chapter 4: Inductility _

_Illusion is the first of all pleasures. _

_- Oscar Wilde_

* * *

Harry rushed down hallway after hallway as silently as possible, clutching the woman's scroll and mirror to his chest. The rotating staircases, as fickle as ever, had dropped him off two floors below his goal before grinding to a screeching halt, forcing Harry to use some of the odd hidden passageways he remembered from the Marauder's Map to get up to the seventh floor.

Speaking of the Marauder's Map, his father's legacy would have come in handy as Harry skidded around a corner, smack dab in front of his newest Defense professor.

"Oh my, what do we have here?" Harry shuddered in disgust as an oily grin crossed Umbridge's face, making her appear more like a frog than usual. "Wandering the halls after curfew, Me. Potter? Tut tut."

"Oh, no, Professor." Harry panted, trying to catch his breath. "I was just returning to Gryffindor from the Hospital Wing."

"Of course, Mr. Potter," Umbridge said sweetly, and a flash of vindictiveness lit up her eyes. "Mr. Malfoy already informed me of your little fainting spell. He was quite concerned about your 'frail and fragile' body; I believe that is what he said.

Harry bit back a vicious swear; who did that bastard think he was!?

"Please give him my thanks, Professor," Harry said politely, a little thrown by the woman's predatory grin. She looked like the cat that finally caught the canary.

"Why not thank him yourself?" Umbridge asked, ignoring Harry's dismayed spluttering. "I was just about to visit Professor Snape's office for a little chat, and I am sure he won't mind summoning his godson for you."

Harry's thoughts were racing, torn between trying to figure out how to get out of the situation he had managed to land himself in (visiting Slytherin, especially at night, especially if he had to thank Malfoy? Hell no!) and boggling over the idea that someone trusted the acerbic potions master enough to leave their son's well-being in his hands.

"No, its fine, I wouldn't want to wake him up at this late hour," Harry rambled, backing away from the grinning professor.

"As you wish, Mr. Potter. Now, off to bed!" Umbridge smiled that same disgusting smile that sent shivers down his spine. "No more dawdling in the halls!"

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, annoyed that he had to act so deferentially in front of the bitch. He turned around to walk away, but before he could take a single step, Umbridge's distinctive cough froze him in his tracks.

"Hem hem. Mr. Potter, one last thing before you go." Umbridge's predatory grin turned vicious. "Those things you are carrying; hand them over."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. Dammit, how had she known? He had hid the mirror and scroll as best he could as soon as he saw her; she shouldn't have been able to spot them on him.

"I don't have all night, Mr. Potter," Umbridge chided. "I want those things you are carrying."

"Things?" Harry said innocently.

"The ones you are hiding behind your back, Mr. Potter." Umbridge sneered, any trace of her previous false cheeriness vanishing without a trace. "For all I know, you could be smuggling potions out of the Hospital Wing to sell them to your little friends in Gryffindor. Don't waste my time; I want whatever you are hiding right now."

The mysterious woman had told him to not show anyone what she had given him. Though Umbridge couldn't be the him that she had warned him about, he would most likely never get back the mirror and scroll if he handed them over. Umbridge would confiscate them and do everything in her power to keep them from him; at least, she appeared to be that kind of person, given what Hermione had said at the Opening Feast.

"Mr. Potter," Umbridge warned, reaching for her wand.

"Sorry, Professor." Harry smiled genially, holding the scroll and mirror before him. "This is what I was holding."

"A mirror, Mr. Potter? Couldn't go a single night without staring at yourself?" Harry nearly growled in irritation. What had he ever done to her, besides not be convicted of a criminal offense, that gave her such a bad opinion about him. "And what's this? A little late night studying? How astute of you. I can say that I'm quite surprised. Now, I'll just take a look..."

Umbridge swiped the scroll from him, roughly opening it. Her eyebrows rose in surprise as she quickly scanned it.

"What is this, Mr. Po-"

"_Obliviate._"

The scroll fell from Umbridge's lax fingers, hitting the ground with a thump that seemed to echo in the empty halls. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, and Harry breathed out quietly. He bent down slowly, picking up the scroll and putting it in his back pocket before facing the silent professor.

"You never saw me," Harry instructed, looking away from Umbridge's glazed eyes. "You continued your rounds as normal. You were just on the way back to your office when you stopped for a brief moment."

Umbridge's memories reconfigured, Harry quickly fled, rushing towards Gryffindor with his heart racing, refusing to think about the consequences of what he had just done.

* * *

The world was quiet as he walked back to the store. There were people around him, constantly talking and making promises they could not keep; there was the screeching of tires and aggravated horns as people took their frustration out on anonymous targets; there was the ordinary hustle and bustle of a city, but to Doumeki, everything was silent. Even his thoughts did not invade the silence, the silence measured by the rhythm of his breathing, the quite serenity that allowed him to be so level-headed.

It was a familiar form of meditation that his grandfather had taught him. In the day and age in which he lived in, people were so preoccupied to go from place to place, never pausing to wonder where they were going. It was so easy to get lost in the current, let yourself be swept up with no idea of where your destination would be. Taking a second, his grandfather had told him, to put everything in perspective, was one of the simplest and most valuable forms of meditation, one so many people looked over without realizing what they were missing out on.

Doumeki liked to think that he was a fairly easy going person. Or, in place of that, quite open-minded. One couldn't be brought up in a temple and be close-minded and if you somehow managed to do so, then even an hour with Watanuki was more than enough time to dispel and disbelief about the otherworldly. After all, getting eaten by a malevolent spirit would be enough for anyone to believe in their existence.

Being such an open-minded person, Doumeki should not have been surprised by people falling out of the sky. Actually, falling out of the sky might be a bit of a misstatement. It was more as if they appeared in a swirl of radiant colors centered around a complex magical circle. Either description would have worked, for it seemed as if the sky bent down towards the circle, opening up as it touched the ground, depositing its load safely.

Doumeki blinked.

"A perfect landing! Ten out of ten! I deserve a prize!" A chirpy voice said, and Doumeki blinked once more. Mokona?

"You deserve nothing!" A more irate voice this time, followed by the chirpy voice laughing.

"Sorry Mokona, but I think your ten was more of a five." The swirling colors dissipated, leaving behind four figures: a tall brunet, and Doumeki's sharp eyes quickly noticed a white rabbit-thing on his shoulder that looked nearly identical to Mokona, a thin blond man, and a brunet boy who looked about fifteen. An odd group, especially considering their flashy entrance. The blond man was looking at him, a lazy smile on his face and a curious gleam in his eyes. The brunet man was next to notice him, and he reached for something at his waist; was that a sword? The teenager was the most interesting of the lot, if only because he was the only one Doumeki recognized.

"Why are you here?" Doumeki asked the teenager, ignoring the two older man. The blond seemed amused at the casual brush off, but irritation colored the swordsman's face. The Mokona-like figure bounced off of the taller brunet's shoulder and leapt up on Doumeki's, nuzzling him gently.

"We want to see Watanuki," the teenager answered, looking directly into Doumeki's eyes. There was nothing but sincerity and determination in his eyes, and Doumeki was reluctantly impressed.

"Watanuki? Never heard of him." The teenager visibly wilted, but the white Mokona-thing giggled.

"So serious!" Mokona announced. "Mokona can tell you are lying; it's one of Mokona's one-hundred and eight secret skills!"

"You lied?" The tallest man asked rhetorically, a soft sound announcing that he had begun to draw his sword. Doumeki closed his eyes, gathering energy to his fingertips. He did not think that these four were spirits, but he would not just let them walk all over him.

The three paused as they sensed the gathering energy, and the man put away his sword reluctantly.

"Do you know where Watanuki is?" The teenager asked again. Doumeki stayed silent, refusing to answer. He knew nothing about these people save that he had seen the teenager through his shared eye right before Watanuki had declared himself the shop's new owner. Who knows what the young man had said to him to make him choose such a path.

"Hey! We're talking to you!" The swordsman said. Doumeki refused to even look at him. He couldn't sense any malevolent intentions off the quartet, but...

_Stop being such an idiot, Doumeki._

Doumeki blinked once more, breaking his stoic facade. He could have sworn that he had just heard Watanuki in his head.

_Congratulations, genius, you got it in one. How did you even get into college again? Especially such a prestigious one..._

Well, this was interesting. Doumeki ignored the three men who were staring at him curiously and the Mokona-imposter still snuggling into his collar bone, in order to listen to Watanuki's ranting.

_I mean, if it wasn't me speaking to you, then you would have voices in your head. Do you often have disembodied voices talking to you? I sincerely hope not._

Doumeki absent-mindedly hoped that Watanuki didn't go off on one of his old shouting-rants; he wouldn't be able to cover his ears in order to block out his screaming.

_...I'm in your mind. I can hear what you are thinking, and I am very annoyed right now. No sake for you tonight._

Damn. Now he would only be able to weasel a bottle or two out of him.

_I hate you so much, you giant pile of walking idiocy._

Watanuki would hate him even more if he saw some of his more secretive thoughts.

_Secretive thoughts? That bears some looking into..._

"Um, sir?" The teenager was speaking again. Doumeki refused to hold a conversation both mentally with Watanuki and verbally with this stranger.

_You'd be talking with me either way. _

Doumeki's forehead creased. Watanuki was being even more mysterious than usual. Had something happened while he was out?

_...Nothing happened. Stop worrying about me all the time._

Doumeki concentrated on his thoughts, trying to figure out how to talk with Watanuki directly.

**_We'll talk when I get back._**

_No we won't. And bring the three that are staring at you oddly with you, and stop being so suspicious of everything and everyone who asks to meet me. I do run a shop you know; customers are inevitably going to come._

**_What about the Mokona-thing?_**

_Soel? Bring it too._

**_Hm._**

_Even in your mind you use monosyllabic answers. What am I going to do with you..._

"Oi," Doumeki said, startling the teen.

"Me?" He asked, pointing to himself.

"Yeah. Come on."

Doumeki turned and started walking back to the shop, trying to ignore the ticklish sensation of Soel's head brushing against his chin. The trio shared a look before starting after him, talking quietly all the while.

* * *

"You know, you've been acting really odd lately, Harry," Ron said off-handedly, playing with his breakfast all the while.

"Ron?" Harry asked, watching his friend curiously. The redhead had his head bent, his hair falling into his eyes. Harry could still Mrs. Weasley's worrying over whether Ron would grow his hair out like Bill's. One pony-tailed man was all she could take.

"Like coming back last night. We weren't expecting you back until this morning."

"I couldn't stay there all night; I was too antsy," Harry lied, looking away. Damn, why was he always forced into such uncomfortable situations? It wasn't like he wanted to lie to his best friend after all.

Ron sighed despondently. "Harry, that's... I'd like to think that I know you well enough by now to know that that's not the case. You may complain all the while, but you just wouldn't up and leave the Hospital Wing like you did."

Harry turned back to his friend, startled to see that Ron was looking directly at him. "What do you want me to say, Ron?"

"Something that isn't a lie," Ron replied bluntly, and Harry winced. "If not that, then you don't have to say anything at all. I won't force you to tell me. But if you do need someone to talk to, then I hope you know that I'm always here."

"That's what best friends are for, right?" Harry chuckled, but Ron shook his head.

"No, that's what brothers are for."

Harry stared at Ron, shocked by his friend's declaration.

"You shouldn't be that surprised, Harry. If you're not family by now, then I don't know what you are. Mom's practically adopted you, and she's not the only one. I think we all have by now. Besides, I always did want a younger brother!" Ron grinned, and Harry was suddenly struck with how mature his best friend had grown. He wasn't perfect, but no one really was. He was...

"Four months," Harry said, not looking at Ron.

"Harry?" Ron asked.

"Your only my older brother by four months," Harry scoffed, looking everywhere but Ron's shocked face. "Four months is practically nothing."

Slowly, a smile broke across Ron's face. "Ah, but I'm still older!" He reached an arm across the table, wrenching Harry over to his side.

"Ron! Dammit, my robes!" Harry shouted, trying to vanish the milk and pumpkin juice that were already leaving his clothes uncomfortable wet.

"Now, what's going..."

"...On here?"

Harry groaned, already ready to forget the past five minutes had ever happened. Ron turned to the Twins, his smile shifting into a smirk.

"Our newest little brother just was telling me how happy to have such a wonderful older brother!" Ron boasted, drawing a few amused looks from others sitting nearby.

"No!" The Twins shouting, bending their knees to take Harry's blushing face into their hands. As one they spoke, their voices mournful. "Harry beloved, why do you do this to us? Our pure feelings have turned incestuous. Well, more incestuous anyway."

"...I hate you both so much right now," Harry whispered, face practically luminescent with embarrassment.

"Alas! Alack!" The two cried, swooning. "Our love, so cruelly spurned!"

"Ron!" Harry cried. "Stop them!"

"I don't know if I could even if I wanted to," Ron admitted, looking somewhere between amused and ill.

"There is only one thing we can do now," Fred announced. The Great Hall froze, turning to the beaming Twins as one. Something was about to happen, something that practically reeked of mischief.

"Are you thinking of what I am thinking of?" George asked in a stage whisper.

"Of course, dearest brother!" Fred said, grinning wildly. The two turned to Harry, who gulped in fear. Should he just kill himself now or let the rest of the school have their amusement first?

"Kisses!" The two announced, pouncing on Harry, who let out a very unmanly shriek as messy, slobbery kisses were pressed to his cheeks. Ron choked on laughter beside him, and Harry felt a vindictive pleasure when one of his flailing hands smacked into his supposedly best friend's temple.

Eventually Harry gave up and let the Twins serenade him with cheesy declarations of love, sighing in pain every once in awhile when they used a particularly bad cliché. He'd let them have their fun; after all, he would need their help very soon...

* * *

First things first: the pairing will not be Twins/Harry. I'm just using them for amusement and because my demented mind told me to. As said before, the only set pairing is Doumeki/Watanuki. Any other pairings are still up in the air, though I will take suggestions. Who else wants to see Mokona/Fai? ...No one? :(

Now, onto notes!

**- Marauder's Map. **A useful object created by Harry's father and his three best friends (the Marauders). It is a diagram of Hogwarts, the school of magic Harry attends, that lists the location of everyone who is in the castle at any given time. It is activated with a password, and when inactivated it not only appears to be an ordinary piece of parchment, but it actively resists spells designed to reveal hidden secrets (and apparently even has the capacity to even know who is casting said spells). Truly, this creation is a testament to the Marauders' ingenuity and skill.

**- Umbridge (Dolores Umbridge). **I realized I was being a little unfair in only describing xxxHoLic characters to the readers; after all, this story might have some xxxHoLic fans who haven't yet read Harry Potter! I won't go into detail about the three main characters (Harry, Ron, and Hermione) only because I assume that they are so well known that even people who haven't read Harry Potter know of them, though if anyone does want a description, feel free to ask! Anyway, Umbridge is basically a giant Bitch with a capital B who, in a single novel, has managed to become generally more hated then the Big Bad. And that's saying something, considering that the Big Bad is a racist mass-murder on par with Hitler. Basically, if anything bad happens to Umbridge, then you can assume that she really deserved it.

**- Snape (Severus Snape). **Snape, Snape, Severus Snape. If anyone ranks up there with the Golden Trio in terms of popularity (or at least notoriety), it is most likely this surly potions professor. Undoubtedly, this complex character will be showing up during this story.

- **"Dammit, how had she known?" **Legilimency, a topic that will be discussed in greater detail later on in the story. Or you could just look up what it is online, but that will be spoiling some of the story, and no one does that on the Internet, right?

**- Obliviate. **Harry Potter Lexicon, I choose _you!_ "Modifies or erases portions of a person's memory." A tad laconic, but it serves its purpose. Also, Harry changing Umbridge's memory around - totally me abusing an author's prerogative to explain the question of how exactly you go about _modifying_ a person's memory.

**- Doumeki's granddad. **Doumeki Haruka, who was mentioned last chapter. Doumeki is quite similar to his grandfather, though Haruka says that he smiles more than his grandson, and looks up to him a great deal. Oftentimes, Doumeki's largest speaking roles are centered around things his grandfather had taught him.

**- The Falling-from-the-sky group.** The TRC group, who were alluded to a few times earlier. They are (in order of description): Kurogane, one of the Mokonas (Soel, to be specific), Fai (who got a whole author's note to himself last chapter), and Tsubasa/Syaoran. For all those who are wondering where Sakura is, then I shall point you to the latest (and by latest, I mean final) chapter of TRC. Individual notes for each will come throughout the story whenever I feel they are necessary. As always though, any questions asked will be answered to the best of my abilities.

**- Mokona's one-hundred and eight secret skills!** Soel mentioned numerous times throughout TRC that it has one-hundred and eight secret skills (or some variation of that name).Some of these super secretive skills have been: voice imitation, being a living translator (anyone who is in Mokona's general vicinity is able to understand one another), acting, breaking in, traveling between worlds, understanding lonely people, drawing capabilities, flirting, singing, teasing, communicating between worlds (and the Mokona can communicate with each other while dreaming and can act as 'telephones' as shown in the xxxHoLic Kei Drama CD and in 'Soel to Larg: Mokona=Modoki no Bouken' as well), writing in kanji, super strength, super transformation, immunity to bad luck, knowing when someone is sad, super deductive reasoning, and so much more. Soel is quite the skilled Mokona!

**- "...he had seen the teenager through his shared eye..." **Doumeki is being quite literal here. For the actual instance, see chapter 184. pages 9-10.

**- "...gathering energy to his fingertips." **Surely it's not too ridiculous of a guess to believe that Doumeki's mastery over wielding spiritual energy has increased over the years, no?

- **Doumeki's hearing voices. Voices that are in his head. **As mentioned above, the Mokonas can be used almost like telephones. Yuuko also exhibited the power to speak through Maru and Moro to Watanuki (because she created them) and to speak to characters in different worlds through pools of water. Watanuki and Doumeki can occasionally see out of each other's shared eye. Telepathy shouldn't be anything to outrageous compared to these feats.

**- "Like coming back last night. We weren't expecting you back until this morning." **Time shift! Just so no one got lost. Also, a little note to say that Harry managed to make it back to Gryffindor safely. I wonder if the rest of his journey back was unhindered though...

**- Four months. **Harry's birthday is July thirty-first while Ron's is March first which means the difference is more like five months, but Harry would never admit that. Also, as an interesting side note, Harry is the youngest of the Golden Trio.

**- The Twins (Fred and George Weasley). **Two of Ron's older brothers, the Twins are a mischievous duo of pranksters that are the worthies of successors to the Marauders' fame. They were the ones who gave Harry the Marauder's Map in his third year and they reluctantly took one-thousand galleons from Harry at the end of his forth year. Although they left Hogwarts before their graduation, who knows what's going to happen to the two in this story?

**- Mokona/Fai. **OTP, yo. The Mokona/Kurogane fangirls will never win!

A big thank you to everyone who has reviewed, added this story to their favorite stories list or their story alert list, or made Inexorable Inevitability part of their C2s. You guys rock!

That's it, I'm done, until next time folks!

Ariaeris~


	5. Insuperable

**_Inexorable Inevitability_**

_Chapter 5: Insuperable_

_The self is not something ready-made, but something in continuous formation through choice of action. _

_- John Dewey_

* * *

"Welcome home!~" Maru and Moro cheered as the group entered the shop, quickly abandoning any sense of professionalism to rush to Doumeki's side, hugging him tightly. Mokona, being Mokona, decided to join in on the loving, and Doumeki was soon engulfed in a whirlwind of glomps. The trio watched on in mild bemusement as the incredibly stoic man pat the children's heads with surprising gentleness, not forgetting to tap an ecstatic Mokona on its jeweled forehead.

"Watanuki is expecting you all!~" Maru said cheerfully, and Moro nodded enthusiastically.

"Then let's not keep him waiting," Syaoran said mildly, following Doumeki and the two girls as they walked together farther into the shop, conversing softly. Syaoran shared a look with Fai and Kurogane, confused by the powerful man's presence. Just how well did he know Watanuki? He couldn't remember Watanuki ever talking about a stoic man who seemed to be close to him and they had never encountered someone like him along their journeys...

"We're back," Doumeki said softly as they entered a sunlit parlor. Watanuki, who had been resting against one of the room's windows, smiled at them serenely.

"Welcome home," Watanuki greeted them, equally as softly, before falling silent once more. The Black Mokona, who had been resting on Watanuki's shoulder, jumped over to Doumeki's so that it could nuzzle its twin. No one said anything for a long moment, waiting for Watanuki to say something else, but the shopkeeper seemed more interested with staring sightlessly out the window than being a proper host.

"I see," Watanuki said suddenly, and Syaoran was surprised to realize that Watanuki had been dreaming when they had entered the parlor and had barely surfaced into the world of the waking to greet them before returning so subtly that no one had noticed. Well, no one but Doumeki it seems, because the man was staring at Watanuki in an indefinable way.

"Please forgive me," Watanuki murmured, stepping away from the window. "I am being a very poor host. If you would please follow me..."

Watanuki turned, leading the group out onto a low porch that over-looked a large garden filled with flowers and a blooming cherry blossom tree. Magic lingered heavily in the air, combining with the soft afternoon sun and the warm weather signaling the end of summer to make the entire scene glow ethereally.

"Maru, Moro, can you go get the snacks I prepared earlier?" Watanuki asked once they had all sat down and he had lit his pipe.

"Okay!~" They cried, running back into the shop.

"You knew we were coming?" Syaoran asked, carefully analyzing Watanuki's form. He didn't have any obvious wounds, but he wouldn't put it past the man to hide his suffering from them so as to not cause what he saw as unnecessary trouble.

"I did," Watanuki confirmed, putting his pipe down on a small tray, watching its smoke curl and dance in the air.

"If I remember correctly, we caught you by surprise the last time we were here," Fai remarked, accepting a pasty from Maru and Moro as they skipped back out onto the porch, delicately-wrought trays held in their small hands. "What's this?"

"An éclair," Watanuki answered, allowing the two girls to tackle him once they had sat down their trays. "How is your new arm treating you, Kurogane?"

Fai seemed a little amused as Kurogane poked the limb, ignoring for the moment Watanuki's casual dismissal of his unasked question.

"Can't complain," Kurogane muttered, trying to figure out how to eat the éclair without getting its chocolate filling everywhere like Syaoran, who was still trying to wipe off the mess he had made on his clothes, had.

"Of course he can!" Fai disagreed, smiling impishly. "Kuro-la's been complaining ever since Tomoyo-san gave it to him. 'It's too light, it doesn't feel right, I'm off balanced, it's too heavy…'"

Watanuki chuckled lightly. "So it's perfect then?"

"Exactly," Fai agreed. He waved the éclair in the air, holding it with two fingers. "How are you supposed to eat this?"

"Well, you usually use your mouth," Watanuki said. "You can take small bites or, as Kurogane just demonstrated, you can eat it whole."

"Whole!?" Syaoran exclaimed in shock, staring at the ninja. "How could you fit the whole thing in your mouth without choking? It's so big!"

Watanuki stared at Fai, who fake-whistled innocently.

Kurogane looked away, huffing something about training. Doumeki chuckled lowly and Watanuki and Fai broke out into twitters as Syaoran asked the embarrassed man to help him practice his technique until he was as good as Kurogane was.

"I think Yuuko's manga had things like this in it," White Mokona commented, and Black Mokona nodded. Watanuki blinked, looking slightly perturbed.

"Yuuko had yaoi manga?"

Doumeki glanced at Syaoran, taking in his youthful appearance, and then at the much older looking Kurogane. "More like shounen-ai."

Watanuki choked on the tea he had been sipping, laughing at the blank looks the travelers sported, though Kurogane had the good sense to look mildly offended, recognizing that he had probably just been insulted.

"Perverts," Kurogane hissed venomously when the Mokona jumped on Syaoran's head, distracting him.

"Only because you make it so easy, Kuro-chan."

"Not you too," Kurogane moaned, looking at Watanuki accusingly.

"Sorry, Kuro-ro," Watanuki teased. "But there is no need to get your feathers in a bunch. I have something to make things all better." The shopkeeper grasped a long, thin package at his side that had, until now, gone unnoticed. Kurogane inhaled sharply as he recognized the dragon-hilted sword, drawing his companions' attention.

"Ginryû," Kurogane breathed, fingers twitching in anticipation to finally retrieve the sword he had been forced to leave in the Witch of Dimensions' care.

"You did say you would return for this sword, no?" Watanuki asked rhetorically, smiling mysteriously. "Now, the only question is, what are you willing to give up for it?"

* * *

The familiar darkness of the world of dreams greeted Harry as he drifted off to sleep once again in his History of Magic class, and Harry was almost amused at how his most boring class had somehow become his most productive one for developing his abilities. Even during his time out of class, he never got the chance to just sit and meditate and allow his mind to slip away from him on his accord. Through meditation, he had greater control over his power to enter the dream world and could control his destination to a degree. It was when he fell asleep that his potent power got out of hand and did odd things, like transporting him across the world to be annoyed by lazy, screechy shopkeepers.

Speaking of which...

"Ichihara!" Harry called, waiting semi-patiently for the shopkeeper to respond to his summonses. Though it was a little rude to just demand that someone enter the dream world for a little chat, Harry thought it was more than justified, especially with the odd encounter with that woman last night. At least the things she had given him would be safe where he had hidden them...

A small wave of power rushed over Harry, chilling him to the core. The shadows around him rippled, lapping at his feet. Harry gaped as the power passed him, the message left behind loud and clear.

Rejection.

"That bastard!" Harry shouted, rubbing his freezing arms. "All I asked was to meet him; he didn't need to try and drown me."

A second wave of power smashed into him, dragging him a few feet before depositing him on his back.

"Looks like someone's a little spiteful today," Harry muttered, climbing to his feet. No matter; he could do other things in dreams then just talk to Ichihara.

Harry closed his eyes, gathering power around him, inhaling deeply. The words of the creature who had first brought him into dreams rang clearly in his mind, as if they had just been spoken.

_You and that man are closer than any other, connected in a way that transcends the natural order of the worlds. Your existence is tethered to his, and as such, you will always be able to find him, no matter what._

Harry exhaled slowly, only opening eyes when he could here voices.

"Wormtail, get Lucius for me."

The familiar hissing voice sent shivers of revulsion down Harry's spine, but Harry ignored Voldemort's repulsive presence with ease that came with practice and begun digging around for where he left off last time he had invaded the Dark Lord's mind.

Harry could still remember the first time he had been brought into the man's mind; it was during his second year at Hogwarts when he had collapsed in his bed, exhausted with the very world and everyone in it after a long day of being thought of as an attempted mass murderer. He had fallen asleep, only to awaken in the now familiar abyss of shadows that was the Crossroad Between Dreams. Though frightened, he had been comforted by his guide, who had explained his gift to him.

_Yumemi._

Dreamseer.

Harry's lip curled slightly as he shoved aside a schema filled with nothing but murderous thoughts. His power, his power to cross into the world of dreams, separated him from every other wizard who had ever lived. _Yumemi_ were not wizards and wizards were never _yumemi_; unfortunately, no one had ever told Harry that, and he had somehow become something that on an intrinsic level was completely impossible. The two powers, the two forms of magic, were so different that it was inconceivable that a single body could be a host for both without being torn to shreds. Somehow though, Harry was still alive and could utilize both forms of his power.

At first, he had been horrified. To his twelve year old mind, the Dursleys had finally been proven right; he really was a freak. It had taken a long time for the being that accompanied him to convince him otherwise, and to this day, Harry still didn't know what made _him_ so different from everyone else that allowed him to casually subvert some of the most basic rules of magic simply by existing.

Even with the confusion surrounding his very nature, Harry was quick to use his abilities to his own gain, especially his connection with Voldemort. The Dark Lord knew nothing of _yumemi _and so, even with his mind fortified by perfect Occlumency shields, his mind was an open book to Harry. Ever since that day in his second year, Harry had been siphoning off knowledge from the man who had killed his parents, learning things he never would have known otherwise. Highly advanced spells, amazingly complex potions, long-forgotten rituals, and hexes that toed the line between light-and-dark; Voldemort's mind was an open book to Harry, one that he was more than willing to use.

Even just being a _yumemi _would not have been enough though; an ordinary _yumemi _would not have been able to invade a person's mind, transport their soul physically across countries, experience the five senses as if they were bodily present. No, that was Harry's true power, the combination of his dreamseer and wizarding powers: astral projection. During sleep, as a _yumemi_, he could wander the world of dreams, peering into the minds of dreamers; with his wizarding powers though, he could send his presence, his soul, away from his body and make it take a physical form.

Or, Harry thought as he finally reached where he had left off weeks ago, he could sent his soul into the mind of another and rifle around with a person's memories.

Even Ichihara could not do what he could, even though power clung to him like a cloak, wrapped around him so tightly Harry was surprised that he could even breathe from the sheer magnitude of it all. And to think, that woman had rebuffed Ichihara as easily as Ichihara had him...

Harry gathered a memory he found interesting and immersed himself in it, clearing his mind of all other thoughts. Lately, Voldemort's mind had been wandering to a certain point in his life, back before when he was still Tom Marvolo Riddle, and Harry was determined to figure out what was bothering the Dark Lord so badly that he was forced to dwell on it so often. Besides, if he picked up some clues about Voldemort's weaknesses or a new spell he could use, then that was just an added bonus.

Harry made himself as comfortable as he possibly could as a memory of an old potions class started playing, led by an obese man. Something important had happened here, something vital had gone on during this time, but he'd be damned if he knew what it was. For now, all he could do is wait.

* * *

"Is it adequate?"

Watanuki carefully examined the package held in Kurogane's hand, marveling at how realistic the arm looked. What had Mokona called it? Piffle? Yes, Piffle must be an incredibly advanced world technologically to create such a marvelous recreation of a limb. He could see the muscles tense and relax, the skin stretched taut against muscle, the thin black hairs resting softly against the flesh; perhaps it was time to see if he could contact someone in Piffle and see if they could help him with his chest...

"Watanuki?" Syaoran asked, watching the shopkeeper in concern. His double had zoned out as he stared at the offering and he wondered if Watanuki had slipped back into dreaming for a moment.

"I'm fine," Watanuki said reassuringly, chuckling slightly as he waved off their inquisitive gazes. "Now, let me see what you have brought me today."

Kurogane wordlessly handed the package over and Watanuki carefully unwrapped it from its crude covering.

"Sorry about the state it's in; we didn't have that much time in between arriving in its world and retrieving it and when Mokona transported us once more," Syaoran explained.

"The only reason why we even have it is because the pork bun messed up and didn't bring us where we were supposed to be," Kurogane grumbled.

"It was perfect!" White Mokona denied, leaping up to sit on Kurogane's head. "We were supposed to land on Earth and Mokona made sure we did!"

"We were in the middle of a cave! How is that the shop?" Kurogane exclaimed, grabbing Mokona and holding it in front of him.

"Mokona never said we were going to be _exactly _in the shop," the Mokona replied.

"Why you..." Kurogane began, but Fai's quiet question cut him off.

"Are you okay, Watanuki?"

The group turned to the shopkeeper, who was staring at the unwrapped package intently. Doumeki shifted towards him as soon as he realized that he had stopped breathing, but Watanuki flinched away, clutching the sword to his chest.

"This..." Watanuki ran a finger down the blade, tracing the letters emblazoned upon it. "Where did you say you found it?"

"Don't really know," Kurogane replied.

"It was on earth!" Mokona cried, bouncing over to Watanuki.

"Really, now?" Watanuki examined the blade carefully, brushing over the ruby-encrusted hilt. He gently swung it over the porch so that it rested, tip down, on the ground.

"Is it adequate?" Kurogane asked again. Watanuki remained silent for a long moment before nodding jerkily.

"Yes," Watanuki whispered. "You want Ginryû for this?"

"Yes," Kurogane replied, watching the shopkeeper with narrowed eyes. "That is all I want."

Watanuki nodded slowly, lifting a hand to rub his chest lightly. "Alright. I accept this trade." He handed the dragon-hilted blade to the older man. "It's yours."

"Watanuki?" Syaoran asked as the shopkeeper stood, and the duplicate smiled gently.

"Your time here is almost up, right, Mokona?" The white pork bun nodded. "I have something to do as well, and I believe you three have a destination in mind too?"

"We're hoping will land in Edonis country soon," Syaoran replied.

"Then I wish you well on your journey," Watanuki said quickly, and Doumeki stood as well. "Mokona?"

"Yep!" Wings sprouted from the small figure's back and Yuuko's old magic circle appeared below it.

"Wait, Watanuki!" Syaoran cried.

The shopkeeper ignored his double's cry. "I will be calling on you soon, in order to fulfill a request of my own. Until then..."

The quartet disappeared in a flash of light, and Watanuki sighed as he stumbled backwards. Doumeki caught him gently and lowered him to the ground.

"That was abrupt," Doumeki said shortly. "If you didn't want them to find out about your condition, then this wasn't the best way of hiding it."

Watanuki coughed into his hand. "Lecturing me as always, Doumeki?" Watanuki relaxed into the others hold, his hand falling from his mouth and hovering over the shop's newest addition. "We don't have that much more time left."

From his fingertips, blood fell onto the sword of Godric Gryffindor.

* * *

...I wrote this and I still don't know what's going on! Yes! I have reached CLAMP-levels of confusion!

No notes this time, save for an explanation of what I meant on 'astral projection.' Now, I'm basing _yumemi _on Watanuki's dreamwalking abilities, not, I think, on how they were defined in _X_. I've never read _X_before, nor do I really feel the need to; I don't want to be an angsty trainwreck of depression afterwards after all. But from what xxxHoLiC has shown, Watanuki can enter the world of dreams, where all dreams are connected, and enter into another person's dream. Okay, then if both Watanuki and Harry are _yumemi _then they both can enter into the dream world. Harry, on the other hand, can take advantage of his wizarding magic and 'conjure' himself wherever he chooses. Before meeting Watanuki, Harry only believed that he could 'conjure' his 'spirit' (mind, soul, et cetera) wherever he chose, including in someone else's mind (something that should be simple considering that if all dreams are connected in the dream world, then all minds should be as well).

What Harry didn't know, and what he is just discovering now, is that he can literally make his 'spirit' take on a physical form. He can 'conjure' himself separately from his body (hence why he can be both in Hogwarts and in Watanuki's shop at the same time). Likewise, when the 'conjuration' ends, Harry returns to his original body, taking with him any sufficiently magical object and literally conjuring it by his side (like the pipe or the two items Yuuko gave him). Harry's combined nature allows him to have a complete out-of-body experience, though at this point in time, he can't control it and no one really knows how his power works (though Watanuki is currently testing the waters - seeing if his pipe really would travel with Harry back through dreams or not - and Yuuko always knows what's happening).

Is this making sense? Usually I wouldn't just dump info on your readers like this, but I figured it deserved some explanation.

Oh, and to anyone who isn't confused, I promise there won't be any cloning, so it should be mind-breakingly confusing. Hopefully.

Notes time!

******É**clairs. Considering the humorous debate between the trio over what exactly constituted an 'apple,' I think we all know by this point that food isn't always the same between dimensions. I haven't seen anyone eat an éclair during the manga (though I am only up to volume sixteen at this point - yay Acid Tokyo! I'm about to have my brain turn to mush!), and considering that I highly doubt Kurogane or Syaoran have ever seen an éclair before, I think they would be a little confused. As for Fai, well, he seems like he would be the type of guy to just go along with things anyway.

**Shounen-Ai. **As opposed to _yaoi, _which at this point in time has been equated with Male/Male sex and in Japan is more along the lines of what we would call PWP, shounen-ai does _not _have the same context in Japan as it does elsewhere. Online, shounen-ai has become 'yaoi-lite,' where there is a greater focus on emotions and true love. In Japan, it is equivalent to Shotacon, aka pedophilia. Seeing as how after the time skip Syaoran would appear, physically, at around eighteen and Kurogane would be in his mid-to-late twenties... Doumeki was making a small crack on how that might appear to the outside viewer. Just my attempt at inserting a little humor. Let's move along now...

**Ginryû. **Kurogane's blade, which he gave to Yuuko in exchange for the ability to cross dimensions. Actually a copy of the sword of his fallen father, Kurogane swore he would eventually return for it, so I thought it would be convenient for him to finally get it back (and bring the TRC crew to the shop).

**Astral Projection. **Already went over this one. Vide supra.

**Kurogane's arm. **Through events I'm not going to take the time to explain, Kurogane lost an arm saving Fai's life. Though he did get a replacement, it was an imperfect fit and hurt him to wear it. In the latest xxxHoLiC chapter, Mokona tells Watanuki that the TRC crew were in Piffle getting Kurogane a replacement. I just love tying canon into my fanon (especially considering that I probably won't be able to for long).

**Piffle and Edonis. **Two worlds that the TRC crew visited in canon. No notes for them now, though there might be a need for them later. Also, I haven't a complaint yet about it, but I am using the Del Ray translations of everything, even when those translations have been proven outdated (Fai as opposed to Fay, for an example). Sorry, but it just makes everything for me so much easier.

**Godric Gryffindor's sword.** Dun dun dun.

That's all, folks! Thank you, as always, to everyone who has reviewed or responded to my story. I apologize for the long wait, but a very inconveniently timed virus attack on all the computers my family has prevented me from updated earlier. Just wait though! I'm planning an update for all my unfinished stories on Christmas day as well as two oneshots and the beginning of a short series of stories. So until then, I hope you enjoy this final chapter before the holidays!

Ariaeris~


	6. Indefatigable

_**Inexorable Inevitability**_

_Chapter 6: Indefatigable_

_In a mad world only the mad are sane. _

_- Akira Kurosawa_

* * *

"Are you listening, Harry?"

The words broke the young man out of the trance he had fallen into, and Harry looked at Ginny in confusion.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Harry grinned sheepishly at Ginny's exasperated groan.

"Okay, what's wrong?" Ginny asked, raising her voice to a barely-acceptable-by-library-standards whisper.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked evasively, looking down at the transfiguration book in his lab. How to transform smoke into noxious gas. Huh.

"You were never the best student, Harry, but at least you put some effort into your work." Ginny shook her head, waving her hand at the mess of papers spread across their library table. "Now though, you are always so distracted. You're barely getting anything done! What's going on in that head of yours?"

Harry leaned back in his chair, away from Ginny who had leaned over the table. "Um, n-nothing is wrong."

"Harry?" Ginny asked, staring at him in confusion.

Harry almost fled from the library; when had hanging around with Ginny gotten so awkward? Probably when she had started dating Dean and had started acting so… flirtatious. Anyone with eyes could see that Ginny would grow into a beautiful woman, but she was someone he had grown up with, like a sister and a brother. Ron had said he was a part of his family. Then wasn't Ginny as much of his family as Ron was?

All he knew was that everything just felt so _off _around the youngest Weasley and it set him on edge.

He rested his chair on its back two legs, grinning disarmingly. "I'm fine, Ginny. Really."

"You say you're fine so much that the words have no meaning anymore," Ginny said sadly, and Harry barely managed to keep his frown off his face. "That's why we all worry about you, Harry. We don't know if you even know what _fine _is, because you are always telling us you're _fine_ when you clearly aren't!"

"Shush!" Pince hushed, and Ginny shot her a quick glare.

"Ginny…" Harry murmured. "I'm serious. You don't have to worry about me."

"But I do!" Ginny exclaimed, ignoring Pince's scowl. "We all do, Harry. We can't help it. It's what you do with people you love."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but his vision blurred over and his mind blanked. He vaguely heard Ginny's scream as he toppled backwards but he was already asleep when his head hit the ground.

* * *

Watanuki jolted in Doumeki's arms as his consciousness was dragged into the world of dreams.

"What has happened?" Watanuki asked himself as he peered around the shadow abyss. He knew better than to call out though, lest a malicious spirit heed his call.

His wisdom was rewarded as Harry stumbled out of the darkness, shadows clinging to him. Watanuki watched in mild concern as blood trickled from the back of the young wizard's head and down his neck. Still, he couldn't know for sure if the figure was truly Harry or merely a spirit assuming his form, and so he continued to wait in silence until Harry spotted him.

"I-Ichihara?" Harry asked shakily, and Watanuki rushed to the wizard's side. No other person would ever call him by Yuuko's name.

"Calm down," Watanuki instructed, clutching the younger boy to his chest. He peered at the back of Harry's head, examining the small wound. It wasn't bad, but Harry ran the risk of bleeding out if it was left unattended for too long.

"Harry? Can you hear me?" Watanuki shook the concussed wizard gently, wary of aggravating his wound.

Harry nodded and moaned as he clutched his forehead. "Why did I do that?"

"Because you're not thinking straight," Watanuki replied bluntly, and Harry snorted. "I'm going to wake up now; will you follow me back to my shop?"

"Can I? You blocked me out last time I tried," Harry said woozily, missing Watanuki's narrowed eyes. Blocked him out? He barely even understood how Harry's power worked!

"Of course you can," Watanuki answered, mentally hoping that Harry would be able to pass through whatever barrier hindered him previously. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," Harry replied. "We can't linger here any longer."

"No, we can't. Then it's time to…"

* * *

"-uki! Watanuki!" Doumeki shouted, jostling the shopkeeper harshly. Said shopkeeper moaned as he traveled back to the waking world and glared at the archer.

"I'm awake," Watanuki bit out. "You can stop shaking me like a rag doll."

"Watanuki?" Harry asked in bleary confusion, and Doumeki glanced at him, surprised at the wizard's sudden appearance.

"My name," Watanuki said, nudging Doumeki gently and quickly glancing at Harry's wound. Doumeki nodded and quickly walked off to get the first aid kit. "Don't you remember? I told you it when we first met."

"Oh. So you're Watanuki."

"Hmm?" Watanuki hummed as Harry slowly slipped into unconsciousness. Normally he would keep Harry awake with an injury to the head, but he trusted the shop's strengthened wards to keep Harry away from death.

"That women, in the land of dreams…" Harry fell lax, his head in Watanuki's lap. "She told me to trust in you."

Watanuki looked down at the unconscious wizard somberly, feeling his heart clench. He ran his fingers thorough Harry's messy hair, gently soothing away what pain he was able to.

The bloodied sword of Gryffindor hummed gently in the silence of the shop.

* * *

"Albus, I have something important to tell you."

Albus Dumbledore peered up from a troubling report of an anti-werewolf law that was to be debated by the Wizengamot in a few days to watch his Deputy Headmistress. The normally composed witch's frantic appearance made him quickly set the stack of papers aside as he focused all his attention on her.

"Is something wrong, Minerva?" He asked, offering her a lemon drop. She took it gratefully, relishing the calming drought he soaked the candies in.

"Yes, Albus. A student was just brought to the Hospital Wing with a concussion."

"Oh? I don't suppose this injury occurred during a quick game of Quidditch now, did it?" Albus asked, bracing himself for the worst.

"No, Albus." McGonagall sighed as she sunk down to sit in one of the armchairs in front of Dumbledore's desk. "This student and another were in the library when he lost consciousness and fell backwards, cracking his skull on the floor."

"Please, Minerva, don't beat around the bush. Who was it?"

"Harry Potter."

Albus sighed, closing his eyes wearily. Yet another painful event for the young Potter heir in the school that was supposed to be his safe haven.

"You said he was brought to the Hospital Wing?" McGonagall nodded. "Who brought him?"

"Ms. Weasley did, along with the Head Boy. All three of them were in the library when Mr. Potter collapsed. Apparently they were all going to study together, according to Ms. Weasley."

Dumbledore nodded gently, peering at one of the devices on his desk. It was supposed to ring sharply if Harry was ever in pain and as he examined it with his magic, he found it in perfect condition. So why hadn't it gone off?

"Are they both with Mr. Potter at the moment?" Dumbledore asked and McGonagall shook her head.

"Ms. Weasley went off to collect Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley."

"Make sure that she doesn't tell anyone else about Mr. Potter's condition," Dumbledore ordered. "Madame Umbridge has already begun examining the school for even the tiniest of faults and is whispering each and every one of them in the Minister's ear. If Fudge hears of Mr. Potter's condition, then the Daily Prophet will soon hail Hogwarts as the attempted murder of their 'great savior.'"

"Why anyone still reads that rag is beyond me," McGonagall muttered harshly.

"It is because they remember it as it was, before it became a breeding ground for sensationalism and defamation. Memories are extremely resilient: they withstand the test of time and magic, which is why it so difficult to manipulate another's memory," Dumbledore said, and McGonagall watched him raptly. She could feel the wisdom of the headmaster's words in her very core. "Even if the mind knows something, the heart may not. The opposite is true as well. It is only when the two, the mind and body, are in harmony that something can truly be understood."

Dumbledore smiled genially, breaking the solemn atmosphere. "That is beside the point though. I believe that you have a trio to collect?"

"Of course." McGonagall stood and went to leave, but paused at the door. She looked back at the headmaster, who was peering intently at his desk. "What should I do about Mr. Diggory?"

"Do not worry about him, Minerva." Dumbledore felt his old lips rise into a reluctant smile. Even at a worrisome time like this, their Head Boy's actions never failed to give him a nostalgic grin. "He will take care of Harry."

McGonagall nodded in understanding. "Of course. Mr. Diggory does owe Mr. Potter his life after all," she said before leaving.

Dumbledore chuckled as his door swung shut behind her. "For someone so smart, Minerva, you have always been awfully blind."

* * *

"What happened to him?" Doumeki asked as he settled Harry on Watanuki's bed, drawing the covers over the slight wizard. Watanuki sighed, tapping his unlit pipe against his thigh.

"I honestly don't know," Watanuki admitted, frowning at the admission. "If I had to guess though, he probably entered the dream world when he fell unconscious when he hurt his head and he unintentionally called out to me and drew me into a dream as well."

"He's powerful enough to force you into dreams?" Doumeki asked, the corner of his mouth turned down in what Watanuki now understood was a gesture of extreme worry.

"Apparently so," Watanuki murmured. He reached down and brushed a finger along Harry's bandaged forehead.

"He looks a lot like you," Doumeki remarked suddenly, and Watanuki quirked an eyebrow curiously.

"Oh? What, is it the messy hair?" Watanuki asked as he went to leave the room.

"No," Doumeki said shortly. "You both look like you have no one to rely on in the world."

Watanuki glanced over his shoulder, meeting Doumeki's impassive gaze. "I have no idea what you mean. Of course I know I have people I can rely on. Kohane comes by practically every day, and I talk with grandma on the phone every now and then. And if I haven't gotten rid of you by now, then I know I never will. Not to mention Mokona, and Maru and Moro, and Syaoran…"

Doumeki shook his head, lips pursed in frustration. "You could list off everyone in the world you have ever met and it wouldn't make a difference."

Watanuki turned to face Doumeki directly, his fists clenched at his side. "You're being awfully talkative today, Doumeki," he hissed. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Don't change the subject," Doumeki demanded and Watanuki huffed.

"I don't see why I shouldn't," he said airily. "It's not like you are making sense."

"You know that you can rely on all of us, but you don't believe it. You're just listing off facts," Doumeki accused. "All you ever do is push us all away."

"Push you away!" Watanuki exclaimed. "You are practically living with me now! How is that pushing you away?"

"I'm not living with you," Doumeki said quietly. "I'm merely sharing the same space as you."

Watanuki froze, the words echoing harshly from the past. His hair shielded his eyes as he gazed at the ground. "We're merely 'sharing the same space.' Is that what you think?"

Doumeki said nothing, which was a sufficient enough response for Watanuki.

"You're wrong," Watanuki spat, glaring at Doumeki furiously. "You don't even understand how wrong you are. I told you back then: 'I've come to feel that I'd really like to stay here.' I don't want to stay here just to exist; that's meaningless! I don't want to exist – I want to live!"

"Live in a shop, separated from the world, and constantly injure yourself trying to be something you are not?" Doumeki asked sardonically.

"I'd rather live like this then threaten the fabric of space-time," Watanuki spat. "And if my existence is so displeasing to you, then you can leave. No one ever made you stay here with me."

"You're right," Doumeki agreed, and Watanuki frowned harshly. "I can leave. At this time, you have nothing to offer me."

Watanuki waved his arm, and a portal appeared on the wall beside him. "A portal straight to your family shrine. Think of it as a parting gift."

Watanuki turned to walk out of the room, but Doumeki grabbed his arm, holding him in place. "I told you, you have nothing to offer to me at this time. I've waited six years for _my_ wish to be granted; if you think I am going to leave now then you don't know how wrong _you_ are."

Watanuki shrugged off Doumeki's arm, staring at the portal. "This is a shop that grants wishes. If it is within my power, then I will grant your wish."

Doumeki stepped closer to him, and Watanuki could feel the archer's agitated breathing on his neck. "No. I don't want you to grant my wish."

"And why not?"

"Because what I want from you has a price far higher than what I can give to you," Doumeki said. "Much like that sword you gave to the ninja."

"So this is what you were getting at this whole time," Watanuki chuckled.

"Why did you give that man his sword when you knew he was not offering you an adequate payment in return?" Doumeki asked, frustration rising in his voice. "I thought after the lady with the shamisen that you were getting better with keeping the shop balanced, but right in front of me you harmed yourself to give him back a trinket! How hard could it have been for someone who travels to different worlds to drudge up a better item to barter with?"

Watanuki let the portal collapse, and turned around to face Doumeki, letting himself fall back until he rested against the bedroom wall. "This isn't just about today, is it?"

"You swore to me," Doumeki whispered, and Watanuki's mismatched eyes closed at the undercurrent of betrayal in the other's voice. "After you were nearly killed last time, that you would never again grant a wish if you could not receive adequate payment for it. It takes too much out of you to balance the debt caused by faulty wish granting and I can't help you when you injure yourself like this."

Watanuki couldn't say anything in response; nothing could really make up for what he had done, and Doumeki pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Why did you grant his wish?" Doumeki asked a final time, but Watanuki refused to answer him.

"You're not just hurting yourself when you do this, idiot," Doumeki said quietly. "Do you think Kohane like seeing you nearly dead after granting a faulty wish? Do you think the old fortuneteller likes knowing each and every time when you will trade a little bit of yourself away because you've left the shop unbalanced? Do you think I…"

Doumeki shook his head sharply and stormed out of the bedroom. Watanuki listened in silence as the front door opened and slammed shut. Slowly, he sank down to the ground until he was lying in a heap, his face in his hands.

"If only it was that simple," Watanuki mused. "If only it was true that Kurogane's sword was worth more than Gryffindor's. That is not true though; that I have possession of Gryffindor's blade is vital to the future, even if it hurt me to come into possession with it." Watanuki laughed harshly, and Harry tossed and turned in his sleep. "We're both fools, aren't we, Doumeki? We're all trapped in hitsuzen's web; me because of my very existence and you because I have dragged you into it. Or maybe this was all meant to happen, and it is impossible to change this course we are starting out on."

Watanuki rested his chin against his shoulder, wiping his tears away on his silk shirt. "All I know is that from here, we can only move forward, until that final decision is made."

* * *

Eek. Emotion. Doumeki-emotion. It's like an antonym. Then again, Watanuki seems especially adept at provoking Doumeki when he does reckless things. Just not in such vocal ways usually.

Anyway, I think I know where I'm going with this! Yay?

Um, let's see if I can drudge up some notes (if I can even decipher my own chapter, that is).

**Watanuki jolted in Doumeki's arms… **No, it's not night time, unfortunately. This chapter just takes place immediately after the last one. So the TRC crew just left literally seconds ago but an hour or so (the time when Watanuki was entertaining the crew) has passed in England. Ugh, trying to keep timelines stable are _hard_. No wonder why TRC is so confusing.

"**-uki!" **Say this out loud. What does it sound like, everyone? Thought I'd just add in a little humor to an emotionally heavy chapter.

"**I told you [my name] when we first met." **"In that case then, you can call me Ichihara Kimihiro. Or Watanuki Kimihiro, it makes no difference; they're all assumed names anyway."

**Albus Dumbledore. **The headmaster of Hogwarts and one of the most powerful wizards alive. He defeated the Dark Lord Grindelwald and during Harry's fifth year, resurrects the defunct Order of the Phoenix to combat Voldemort. To Harry, he is an almost grandfather-like figure, and Dumbledore considers Harry to be one of his favorite students and, by the end of the sixth book, trusts Harry enough to put his life in his hands. A lot of you have assumed him to be the mysterious man Yuuko warned Harry about. Only time will tell if this is true or not…

**Mr. (Cedric) Diggory. **Oh ho ho, you read that right, my dear readers. Cedric is alive and well in this story. And he owes his life to Harry? And Dumbledore believes he can entrust Harry to his care? I wonder why…

**Grandma. **The old fortuneteller who Doumeki references a few paragraphs after Watanuki does. If Watanuki speaks with her over the telephone like he says he does, then I figure that he doesn't call her 'old fortuneteller' anymore. Instead, I tried to use an English translation of _baa-chan _that meant that Watanuki viewed her as a close, older friend.

'**I've come to feel that I'd really like to stay here.' **Volume 14, page 46, follows quite the suicidal line from Watanuki. It wasn't until this point in the story (including Doumeki's flashback to Watanuki in the rain with the cat who died alone) that I realized just how horrible Watanuki's life must had been. That just makes this emotional turnaround that much greater and the dependence he has on his memories of Yuuko in Rou that much more tragic. Still, I think both Watanuki and Doumeki have good points and bad points in their little back-and-forth, but the problem is that neither of them had the whole story (until Watanuki finally gets it in the end).

**Inequality. **Ever since Rou began, it was made clear that in the past, Watanuki somehow screwed up a wish. In chapter 192, Mokona reveals that it was because of a wish Watanuki granted that end up having a higher price than the payment Watanuki received. Kohane, Doumeki, and Mokona all express concern that Watanuki isn't able to fulfill a wish without some form of unbalance, something that did not happen with the woman with the shamisen according to Watanuki. Still, Watanuki's mysterious almost-death hangs over the cast of xxxHoLic Rou and I tried to show with Doumeki that not even he was immune to how much stress Watanuki was putting on everyone unintentionally.

As always, thank you to everyone who reviewed/favorited/C2'd this story, and I hope you all have a wonderful holidays!

Ariaeris~


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